The halfbaked Bard

Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.  1 Cor:1:30 Nothing that I did, I could please God. Nothing could gain me favour in His eyes. Nothing can earn me any reward. For it is said, all these are like filthy rags. A God who is infinitely holy. How can He look at my infinitesmally small good deed And be pleased. In contrast my sin is huge. He can't even weigh it on a scale, as is the norm. Love your neighbour as yourself. Anger is equivalent to murder. Lustful looks as same as adultery. An infinitely holy God's standard. No matter how high I jump, I can never reach. The standard of this Holy God. No good deed could ever please Him. I was helpless in that ditch. But the everlasting Father, as He is. Love incomparable, loves me and As He wants to save me. Came down to that ditch to rescue me. By His dying on the cross, He paid the debt, The ransom which I did not have to pay. It was His doing. He did it. Not me. Nor any of my attempts. The smartest, the wisest, the rich...