Lord, I am Blessed

Lord,
Blessed is the man,
Who you allow to stand upon your Earth,
And hold you with such disdain.

Lord,
Blessed is the man,
Who you allow to curse your name,
And spit upon all that you hold dear,
And yet still have a mouth from which to speak and spit.

Lord,
Blessed is the man,
That questions all you have ever said,
And yet still has the ears to hear and the eyes to read.

Lord,
Blessed is the man that wanders from your path,
and tramples upon what no man is supposed to tread,
And yet still has legs to walk.

Lord,
If you are for all that is right.

Lord,
If you are of all that is powerful.

Why can I still write?