By Laju Iren
Jesus loves prostitutes.
Forget the low whistle when the window’s down
The extra tip after all’s said and done
Or the sweet sighs when the act is on.
Jesus loves prostitutes.
Beyond the make-up and the curvy lips,
The hot clothes and sexy hips,
He sees a heart that longs for peace.
Jesus loves prostitutes.
Enlisted by force, he loves them by choice
Recruited by choice, he still sings with his voice
His protection, rubber-stamped in blood.
Jesus loves prostitutes.
The woman with the alabaster box,
And those who wouldn’t care to seek his socks
He cared long before Rahab’s time.
Jesus loves prostitutes.
Like a father’s love in purity,
So much he’ll spend eternity
In union with them if they’ll let Him.