How You begin, Jesus, is beautiful. You know that I have indulged in ways that I shouldn’t, gone places and done things that I shouldn’t. But that is not where You begin. You start with Love. You jolt me awake with how You see me, with reminders of our history together, of how fierce You are for me, how You will rescue me over and over again, of how You will never, never tire or run out of longing and desire for me. Even though You have seen it all, witnessed it all, close up in detail.
You turn on the light in the darkness and chaos, so I can see You more clearly and see myself through Your eyes. And You still don’t see the sticky mire clinging as a part of me. You still see the heart of me as pure, untouched and beautiful, just struggling to get my needs met in empty ways, wanting to feel wanted in a cast adrift place, often seemingly one-step-removed from fully belonging. You see the struggle in the shadow and so Your love swells and overflows and bursts the banks in order bring me close to You, gently holding, steadfastly soothing all the broken, hurt places.
This sin has been its own hell. Because of the separation brought between the different parts of myself; separating my body from my heart, my heart from my mind, my own heart from Yours, cutting off my tongue in order to keep the precarious place of belonging that I had been offered. Becoming compromised and caught, small and strained, life draining away, editing and curating myself in order to appease, to try and hold onto this small conditional place, so long as I tow the line. This isn’t freedom. It’s not sitting in the full-blown joy that’s mine when I find my home in Your eyes, bed myself in Your heart. Where You make me alive, speak to flourishing all the parts of me that You put there in the beginning, where You make me radiant and wild in the expression of all that You dreamed me to be.
You are Strong Hope, holding onto me, always holding onto me. You never let go, You’ve never let go. Seeing beneath the surface as only You can. Inviting me to come deeper, come higher, come further into You and all that You are longing to give me. There is no glimpse of shame with You. You just say to let go of all of that and take a hold of Me. Don’t look at that, look at Me.
Grow me and prune me and help me hang onto You and watch for Your promises being delivered through the grinding wait. Because I fail and struggle to remember and wander like a lame sheep, struggling to stay here, quietly content with You. Do what You need to do and deal with me. Please just do what You want to do.