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The Roots of Sin
Michael George Spielman
Lord, I want to crawl under a rock, if only to hide from my sin. Alas, its roots are deep. It rots away at my heart like a cavity, an ever growing, ever spreading fungus. I feel resigned. Get me out of this mess. I seek to distance myself from my old sins before I do confess. When distance is got I raise my arms and no longer see the need. With defenses down I fall again and the cycle does repeat. Oh the guilt, though it too misplaced. I'm more concerned with my own name than with the glory of Your face. Lust is such sweet poison for the soul. Too often I hate sin simply because it compromises my ability to take pride. Lord, wash me clean.
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