Our Past Redeemed

A part of hope is our own past redeemed,
Becomes in fact what it has always been—
In truth was never to us what it seemed
But was the unreality of sin.

As what-was-never-meant dies on His Cross,
Within we can become a desert waste
Where nothing lives, but all we are is lost.
Can any growth come in this barren place?

But then at last the Spirit’s rain will come,
And growth of what has always been will sprout;
As virtues grow we will ourselves become:
That we are real there is no longer doubt.

Our past redeemed is who we’ll always be:
A person who is real, created free.