He gave me breath. I took it for granted.
He bore my burdens. I took them back. Couldn’t be bothered by Grace.
He opened his arms. I shook my head “no”
Yet, he never let me go.
I found myself struggling and struggling with God. When he NEVER fought with me.
He only stood fighting for me… against the “rulers, authorities, powers of this dark world” (Eph. 6:12)
I found myself bound tight to the pain and suffering of a young boy.
He released my pain - even as I grasped desperately for that same pain.
He gave me healing. I found ways to damage myself over and over again.
He gave His Son. I walked away.
He waited. Patiently as a father looking longingly for his ‘lost’ son.
I kept running away. Further and further away.
I showed up. One day beaten and worn of flesh and spirit.
He waited still…
“Son, what do you want?”
“I want to live.”
He gave me life. I inhaled it as quickly as I could.
He wiped my slate clean. I lay shivering on the floor.
He bent down. I reached out to take his hand.
He showed me Love. I am unbound.
I am His.
03/23/23
clc
~ Peace
The Burtle