Poem two.

This one is definitely very raw and real. It came on a Saturday night late, March 23, after church and dinner. It speaks to a very specific struggle, a very intense and dark struggle that I held onto for far too long. The events leading up to this poem and this lesson… I can only point to God in His infinite love and wisdom for orchestrating everything so perfectly.

For as long as I can remember,
my life has been shrouded
by vehement darkness.
You finally brought me to that place,
that place at the end of my rope,
where the only way to avoid
such an untimely death
is to run full speed
straight ahead
straight into Your arms.
By Your grace,
and only by Your grace,
my long wearied
and white knuckled hands
have begun to miraculously let go.
But then… oh, but then.
Suddenly, a seemingly forgotten blow
takes me down
and returns me to the darkest of nights.
But once again,
You show up with Your grace.
That crazy, mind blowing grace.
And I slowly begin to realize…
even one last white knuckled finger
will keep the darkness around
and keep the destruction coming.
But God,
I’m just so scared.
If I finally release the last of my grip,
what then will I have?
As I heave yet another hopeless sob
into my darkest of night,
that still, small voice
begins to pierce my stone cold heart.
It begins to break down my walls.
Not a moment too soon.
Not a moment too late.
Me, the voice whispers.
You will have Me.
But God, I choke out between sobs,
will You be enough?
The voice of peace returns…
Yes, my beloved.
You have no idea how enough I can be,
if only you would let Me in.
But, I do need the final piece.
My heart starts to race,
and my palms begin to sweat.
Why? How? God, I’m terrified.
My beloved daughter,
I bled on that cross
so that you never
have to make yourself bleed again.
The nails broke my skin,
so that you never
have to break yours with your blade again.
The reality of it hits me
in a way like never before.
Woe is me, I cry,
as I fall into a pile of tears.
But slowly…
and dare I say, hopefully…
I release my white knuckled finger.
The one that kept me in darkness.
The one that kept me in shame.
Oh Lord, I will never NOT need You.
But as Paul once said,
Your power is made perfect in our weakness.
May I forever boast
in the cross of Jesus Christ.

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