I Testify Poem by cheryl davis miller

It's not of works but grace I find,
I testify.
This knowledge comforts heart and mind,
until I die.
For then I will behold the One.
Who for me sacrificed His Son.
That I would now have seeing eye,
I testify.
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His love is the eternal kind,
I question why?
It sets us free it does not bind,
won't even try.
Such grace is hard to understand.
Offered from His nail scarred hand.
It's not of works but grace found I,
I testify.