Nothing Left to Judge

All the things you held so close slip away like rain.
Nothing left to judge, but the love that still remains.
Nothing left to judge but grace.
I buried him on Tuesday by the tracks.
My brother couldn't make it, didn't call back.
We hadn't spoken since the summer that Mama left.
Some wounds go deeper than we think they can get.
But standing there alone, I heard his voice saying, "Son,
Forgiveness ain't a choice.
You make just once." When the storm rolls in,
And the river rises high,
When you're standing at the crossroads, asking why,
All the things you held so close slip away like rain.
Nothing left to judge, but the love that still remains.
Nothing left to judge but grace.