The blood of God’s sun/Son
I hide
I succumb to fear
I skulk in the shadows
I cringe at my ineptness
I hope he doesn’t notice.
But I know he does
He knows all
He sees all
He is all.
I know he doesn’t expect perfection from me but I feel the weight of my own expectations crushing down flat.
It’s not him that weighs me down, there is no pointing finger, no sigh of disgust, no back turned in a final act of giving up.
It’s all me, paralyzed by my own perfectionism, my own unforgiveness.
It’s not an unforgiveness of others, I find that a manageable task most of the time.
The thing that gets me over and over is my inability to forgive myself of my failings.
Why do I stumble in the same potholes over and over? Why can’t I be more disciplined? Why can’t I be a better listener? Why can’t I give more time to others? Why can’t I be more thoughtful, more caring, more loving every day? Shall I go on…?
My list becomes longer, more magnified, more desperate, more condemning.
How can you put up with me Lord?
I disappoint,
I falter,
I fall,
And flat out FAIL.
But you know the real beauty of it all?
He just takes my hand in his, gently squeezes it and kindly whispers in my ear the truths of old that never fade.
His sweet aroma hovers—
I created you
I made you a thing of incredible beauty
I knew you would struggle and stretch and groan and despair
I knew from the beginning your climb.
And I made that which is humanly unattainable:
The conquering of your will
The controlling of your mind
Disappear in a flash.
A moment in time
Frozen forever.
The shadow of a tree
With God suspended
Then gone
A tomb filled
Then empty.
All done for me, his beloved child.
His blood, his ultimate sacrifice is the ONE thing that frees me from the prison of myself.
It flows crimson
Daily
Cleansing, scrubbing, washing my sins away.
How dare I refuse to forgive myself—When he gave me his everything AND hands me heaven.