Today, You are 
not running to  

the cross I ran 

to in my dream –

blood I put my finger 

against, hot or cold I 

cannot tell you — I cried.
Today, we sit under 

cover, my skin cold

to the touch, but You

do not refrain. If this is 

goodness in the land of

the living – this soul pouring,

I’ll keep inking regret I need taking.
Today, this bare aches 

my chest, You cannot 

see me this way. I am 

afraid of this rejoicing –

over a good thing. You are

coming. You are coming!

I do not seek take Your name
in vain today. You are I AM –

goodness, kindness, mercy,

love, hope–perfect love casts

out fear at the sound of Your name, Abba. 

Father, help me

abide in love I have not on my 

own. Forgive me my doubt You
can turn me toward joy, when un 

belief clings to my hand: what do

you mean you want to stop being my 

friend? You know He may not come, at 

least I’m more reliable. I

believe Your Word: I will save you,

My anointed, I have not forgotten.

Jesus, I should be jumping around: you are coming, you are coming! Technically You are already here, I’m breathing You in and out. Your love. Your care. Your concern. Your goodness. This broken body I like to think is normal, is Yours. It is the bread You break with Your disciples. 

It is what is dipped into the wine; the blood You spilled out for these sins asking me to step aside from Light I only want to behold.

The fear.

The pride. 

The guilt.

The shame.

Take it. Jesus. This gift You don’t deserve, I don’t want to give You. I don’t know how to rid myself of, keep taking back on myself. Take these and show me the Light. You. You. You. The nails into You, the lamb, who loves me. 

The child who wants to take Your hand, and remember the laugh You give in exchange for all I’ve done. 

And breathe Life again. Joy.

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