She wouldn’t want me to call her a saint,
Yet sainthood is not for the faint
Of heart, the angels may fly and humans crawl,
Her heart stays strong though she may fall,
And sainthood is not for the unfallen,
It finds His strength in getting back up
It pulls His desire from the scripted pages
Of saints before and saints made after
The way that Saul turned into Paul,
The light shines even in the darkest hour.
No, she wouldn’t want me to call her a saint,
But saint she is to all who know her.