He Already Sees Me This Way

She says, are you feeling okay?

Absolute concern coming

off her tongue, proceeding a follow-

up to my yes. Why are you laying like

that? My body is curled in question

mark form. Rigid. Stiff. Pointed.

Sharp. Period. I don’t answer. But,

you’re okay, right? Yes. I say,

nodding appropriately. I think I lied.

I couldn’t bear saying I don’t know

how to trust Him. Jesus has hidden

His face. Or, I’ve gone more blind.

What if I am cast off forever? What

if I’m doing His will of sitting still

horribly wrong? I’m hungry, not for

the oranges placed in front of me

this morning, but to sit with this Man

who you claim makes me

depressed. Today, a promise

He made, to keep me strong so I

may dwell in blameless friendship

when He finally brings me before

arms everlasting, has me thinking.

What a horrible friend I’ve been,

giving not a second glance His

direction. He says, Darling, how are

you? I hesitate, wanting to say what

my heart keeps waiting to dispel:

I miss You. The way You seem to

sigh unforgettable breath each time

I sing my only hope is You.

My portion and my strength is never

work I complete, a check list You are

sternly to be boxed in. I’m drawn to

show how worthy I am. Not to be

still. Let Him blanket me without

needing tremble as if I am in wrong.

He loves me, this wayward child,

roaming land after land for approval.

I’m the prodigal son and his brother,

staying right where I am, but aching

to spend all of my father’s wealth,

and still be seen special.

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