[verse] The elders try to look important, Always working up a deal. This time a message from a Roman To whom they likely also kneel. It’s being sent, by his request, I know exactly who it is. The centurion who built our synagogue To buy his dominance through this. I haven’t stepped inside that place Since the year the walls went up. Our stolen money paid that cost To hear our faith is never enough. So I followed after them, My anger led me step by step. I’d learned to hate what power builds— Always bought with another’s breath. ⸻ [chorus] I heard the message that he sent, “I’m not worthy of His steps.” And something in me cracked apart, A truth I didn’t expect. I’d judged him like the others, Like every Roman on the street. But faith was living in a house Where I swore it couldn’t be. ⸻ [verse] He said, “Just speak the word, my Lord,” A soldier’s plea with trembling awe. And Jesus turned with quiet power Toward the home I thought I saw. He praised the Roman’s faith aloud, Said Israel had nothing greater. My bitterness grew loud inside, But conviction followed later. At synagogue the whispers rose— The servant healed, the fever gone. They said it happened instantly, The moment that His word was drawn. I had to see the truth myself, To catch a glimpse through open doors. He stood there smiling in the sun, Alive, restored, and something more. ⸻ [chorus] I heard the message that he sent, “I’m not worthy of His steps.” And shame rose burning in my chest At the truth I’d misread. For I had measured every man By the wounds our people keep, But God had planted faith in him While mine was still asleep. ⸻ [bridge] So I ran through every alley, Didn’t care who heard my breath. Searching for the Teacher’s voice— The One who speaks to life from death. And when I found Him standing there, My voice was shaking, barely whole. I said, “Forgive the things I thought, The hardness buried in my soul.” He met my eyes with gentleness, No judgment in His face. Just quiet love that made me feel I’d finally found my place. ⸻ [chorus] I heard the message that he sent, “I’m not worthy of His steps.” And now those humble, trembling words Are the ones I whisper next. For I had closed my heart in fear, And bitterness had blinded me. But Jesus healed a distant boy— And the broken parts of me.
0/500