Snow

All my violations towards God had been altered by one deliberate blow: the substitutionary death of my Savior at the cross of Golgotha. 

When my memory lingers back to the haunting darkness of sin, the lumens of His gracious pursuit melt all seductive doubts. 

God reasons with His wooing love for me: although your sins are as red as crimson, I will wash them and become like snow. 

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