TITLE: A Perfectionist's Struggle By Karen Petty 03/07/07 |
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It’s dark out here
Or at least it feels that way.
My mind is dizzy
Buried under this thick haze of guilt
And defeat.
I know I should step out of this
Step up.
But to where? Where do the defeated go
To get strong
Or brave
Or even willing sometimes…
Only to be defeated again?
This feeling.
This drain.
This is what tethers me
To lowness
To failure
To rot.
Where is my worth
When I miss the mark so often?
How could He continue to love me?
I don’t.
God tells me that I’m not in charge
Of assigning my worth.
He is.
I feel compelled to give Him lip.
Can’t He see what I’ve done?
My sins make me horrible…
Unloveable.
How is it that He sees past those unspeakable acts?
“These are my value” I say, huddling under the weight of my mistakes.
“I see you under there”, my God says.
“Even imperfect, I can’t not love you.
You are mine.
I’ve sacrificed everything for you.
Open your eyes.
See my sacrifice
My blood
Every ounce of human strength.
See that Only I could endure the atrocities
Required to redeem your life
To redeem you.
I hold out my arms to you
Waiting.
Why do you protest?
Do you think I’m not able to carry you, because you are broken?
Let me love you!
How can we can be close, when you stand at a distance?
Yes, technically, you’re in.
You’re under the wire
And going to heaven.
But, do you really want to wait
To feel my embrace?
Don’t push away the rest, I offer.
I do go before and behind you.
But, I’m not a secret agent
Sneaking around hiding from you.
I’m right here.
You push me out of the way
To do mundain things
Or maybe so you can stay far back
Where you don’t have to think about me.
Believing that you disappoint me too often, you attempt to handle your struggle on your own.
You battle alone.
Why do you stay where pain is familiar?
You acknowledge me
From way over there.
While I stand
Arms outstretched
And eyes locked on you.”
I hear His Voice
Tender and Strong.
I recognize it.
It’s too hard to hold back…to hold it all in.
My burden is too heavy to take care of on my own.
Sometimes it feels that my arms are too weak to lift them to Him.
I’ll try now, to give everything to Him, without taking it back again.
I feel His warmth like the sun on my face.
His peace is a welcome rest.
Not everyday is smooth and uncluttered.
But He is the same, day in and day out.
His Strength keeps me from sinking.
He points me to Hope, even on the lowest of days.
He gives the core of me Joy exactly when I need it.
I am not lost.
I am loved.
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