This is not a cliché,
Worn out words that people say
God actually loves us

He could have chosen the galaxies
That He painted in His majesties
Instead He chose us

With the many in the lands
We’re inscribed in his hands
God loves us

We’re smaller beside whales
Less colourful than peacocks’ tails
Still God loves us

We are weak in faith
Too often we resign to fate
Yet God loves us

His son was hung upon a tree
To set prodigal children free
God loves us

We are not the centre of the universe
Still God touched us from beyond the skies
God loves us

I could not fathom it
Why God would descend into a pit
For people who will upon him spit

Though we are so undeserving
His love remains unrelenting
God loves us

For us in tattered rags
Christ came to grab our bags
Of sin, God loves us

We are worthy thus
Because He made us
So, God loves us

Not a future you
Or a better you
God loves today’s you

He loves us of His will
No mountain, ocean or hill
Will separate us from this

We really don’t deserve it
We are just bags of bones and meat
Still He chooses to love us

This is not a passing phrase
Or prone to case by case
No matter what God loves us

Editor’s note: This poem was first published on 27 December 2013. A substantially revised and expanded version later appears in Under the Influence (First Edition, 2026) as part of “Two Witnesses to Love.”