A short poem: To me, the gospel isn't simple

Who am I? That the Man behind the grave would know my name?

Who am I? That He sees my sin and loves me just the same?

For what am I worth? Nothing in light of the glory above

What do I owe? Everything to the Man who created love

Why am I here? To seek Him, and know the glory of His unearned grace

What should I do? Sacrifice...and tell the human race

Though He doesn’t need me, He wants me 

Though I sin before Thee, You pursue me

To understand grace is not my right, yet follow Him regardless and still fight...

Though nothing about the gospel is simple to me…I fall to my knees and cry out to Thee…

Thinking about Hell and all it entails…for the souls doomed to go there and their shrieking wails

I stop believing, and start questioning....but keep praying 

Silencing my thoughts and what they are saying...

Though I struggle with this part of the gospel story...
I choose to believe this Man of glory.