Heaven's Grace

John 12:1-3

At the Master’s feet she’d sat
Heart opened wide to learn.
As every word poured from His mouth
More of His truth she yearned.

Mary knew the Master’s face, so well -
She’d sojourned with Him far.
But gently now she washed the feet
The nails would so soon mar.

Feet that walked so many miles
Into so many lands
Would soon begin a pilgrimage,
Designed by a Father’s plans.

The lands the Master’d journeyed through
Weren’t solely of earth's trodden clay.
He’d sojourned into hearts of man
And taught them how to pray.

As Mary’d sat there at His feet
Listening fully with her heart
She’d heard the echo of the path He’d trod
Right from the very start.

A voice within her’d wakened
A trembling knowing held her fast
Then pouring out the spikenard
Mary’s washing forever’d last.

The fragrance filled the room that day.
On prayer’s wings it was borne
Straight to the Father’s throne room
Love’s costly gift it would adorn.

Jesus’ princely gift of servant-hood,
In obedience each print laid down,
Mary’s heart had captured
Her hair’d become its footed crown.

And though I may not wash His feet
Or with my hair embrace
My heart can follow servant-hood
Adorned by Heaven’s grace.



© DeAnna L. Brooks
31 December 2004