A spendthrift lover is the Lord
Who never counts the cost
Or asks if heaven can afford
To woo a world that’s lost.
Our lover tosses coins of gold
Across the midnight skies
And stokes the sun against the cold
To warm us when we rise.
Still more is spent in blood and tears
To win the human heart,
To overcome the violent fears
That drive the world apart.
Behold the bruised and thorn-crowned face
Of one who bears our scars
And empties out the wealth and grace
That’s hinted by the stars.
How shall we love this heart-strong God
Who gives us everything,
Whose ways to us are strange and odd,
What can we give or bring?
Acceptance of the matchless gift
Is gift enough to give,
The very act will shake and shift
The way we love and live.