Driving

Day breaking

Windows open. Music playing

Act One of my daily routine

I’m swimming through heavenly currents of sound

Laced with lyrics that are too hard for me

Like a medical patch in the middle of my back

I can’t reach it. The drug enters in

While Benedictines of Mary sweetly confront me

With the price that was paid for my sin

Each day the song stalks me with haunting tense harmonies

Avoidance just can’t be sustained

As I quit, I’m transported to the foot of the cross

With a mother gripped by anguish and pain

The moment’s too holy. I’m filthy—unworthy

I collapse—press my face to the ground

I whisper repentance. Transgressions pour out

Floodgates open and forgiveness rains down

I’m Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

I’m Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

Healed of my addiction, with new focus—conviction

That I’ll serve in a prison ministry

While turning my life around—finding new friends

This new plan felt humbling to me

And what’s the first song to open the first service?

But the one that started this whole thing

God made it abundantly clear that night

This is where He wants me to be

Sharing the Eucharist with the forgotten and praying with the people we fear

Their shame and their anger — It’s hard to imagine the path that led them to here

Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

They’re Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

While reflecting on mercy

A former gangbanger

A killer unworthy of grace

Shared how the mother of the boy that he murdered

Demanded he look at her face

The mother insisted

The killer resisted

His gaze boring a hole in the ground

When their eyes finally met. "I forgive you" she said

And he wept as forgiveness rained down

He was Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

He was Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

I clearly don’t get it I missed by a mile

Was it humble to minister to these men?

God’s infinite mercy redeems every sinner

And I’m no more worthy than them

The doubters, believers, the dealers the healers

The broken both free and condemned

His Son will cross any boundary to heal us

If we would only surrender to Him

And we’ll be Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

We’ll all be Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb

Washed—Washed—Washed by the blood of the Lamb