hurtful, insensitive, snobby, overdramatic (of course),
...beast?
for lack of a better word
it was hard to find one--but i couldn't think of anything else
and this isn't beast in the positive way, either
its beast..in the predator way
maybe i just need to find better insults
but seriously--gah
it crossed my mind to use the word "monster"
...but i couldn't.
because i felt like
that
word
...better described
the person
i was
judging
*sigh*
and here i go--i've started even before i've meant to
i called him a monster
...
and to me--
he was
a modern day
real life
physical
standing
less than
two
feet
next
to
me
..monster
....and what a monster i was
for thinking so.
*exhale*
here we go:
did you know?
that meth messes up your hormones?
and speeds up your metabolism
so that--
all of the toxins
get rapidly released
and surfaces
on your face?
...that's why so many meth addicts
have such bad skin--bad acne
all the toxins surfacing on their skin
but that's not the worst of it
and even what i saw today--probably wasn't the worst of it
....
but it was pretty darn, bleeping, bad
my stomach felt like it literally turned
i only saw a glimpse
but the glimpse--the recognition
the slow realization
of what i was looking at
will literally--
no exaggeration--
will probably haunt me
for days
i couldn't understand it
i was confused at first
then in disbelief
what i saw--didn't make sense to me
my own cheeks hurt
and till now
they still do
they ache--just thinking
just visualizing
just writing about
how this man's face looked
i had always seen him from a distance--
no harm done, no questions asked
it never even crossed my mind to realize or see a pattern
that many of the older gentlemen actually had acne scars
in fact--i think i just took for granted that some people's faces
just start to look like that with age i guess
i dont even know
but this gentleman--
look at me cringe at calling him "gentleman"
id rather call him a guy
this guy
i wanted to correct myself
my judgment
is seeping
through
my
fingers
as
i
type
...it was disgusting.
he was standing maybe less than two feet from me on the other side of the door frame
facing towards the room to watch another client fix the chairs
i glanced his direction, wanting to gauge how agitated he might be from me
making him and his partner do their chore over again
and then i saw it
for the first time
i saw it
i saw his cheek
from sideview
a direct view
an upclose
just less than a couple feet away view
...
his cheeks looked, at first,
as if they were speckled
with dark spots
that i kinda took for granted before
as...
i dont even know
scars?
some sort of lines?
i just never bothered to wonder
and in a way, i guess
my guess of scars
was right
but i never
would have
guessed
or imagined
these
kind of
scars
i dont know if my description of it
could do it justice
...you know how
when something from the ground
explodes--or erupts?
this is what i was trying to get at
with all the talk of acne
or toxins surfacing
on your face
think of a crater
your typical idea
of a crater
a misshapen circular-ish or oblong-ish hole
an opening
on the ground
now
shrink that
to maybe
a size
of the opening
of a clicky-pen
when you retract
the pointy part
back in its
hole
think of
that
hole
except rather than a perfect circle
its misshapen
the hollowness
still
inside
a black
space
unfilled
an empty
space
like
an air pocket
on your skin
there
they
were
scattered
all across
his cheek
from afar
the speckled circles
blur together
and look
almost
like
clawmarks
dragged
down
his
cheek
but from the distance
i was
standing
i could see
the streaks
of
scars--
deep
penetrating
hollow
acne
scars
i cant
describe it
with enough
detail
to possibly
convey
how much
it made
my stomach
turn
i couldn't
drink
water
my mind wandered to
old wood
with holes in it
from larva-like bugs
that had over the years
crawled through--
eating
its way
through it
there
was
space
for AIR
inside
his
flesh
i cant wrap my words around it
well enough
to construct
a descriptive
enough
sentence
craters
on
his
FACE
on his skin
hollow
craters
so
inside
his
skin
that the holes
in the middle
of them
were
BLACK
but not--a filled in black
like a blackhead
but a
DUG in
black
pores
blown out
and stuck
in that
size
the toxins
eating away
so much
at his
skin
that it
carved
to the insides
of his
flesh
leaving
a hollow
dent
under
the thin
layer
of
punctured
tattered
skin
stretched out
across
his face
my cheeks hurt
they literally
tangibly
physically
ACHE
when i think about it
it was
disgusting
furthermore--
the reason behind it
that my coworker explained
(when i first saw--i had no idea WHAT it even was or was wrong with his skin)
but the reason behind it
furthermore
was disturbing
it was a living
breathing
combination
of the two words
put together
more sincerely
than id ever
used them
before
...im the monster, here
the only conclusion
the only identity
i could allow
myself
for looking at another human being
and feeling the way i did
the disgust that i did
my body's
physical
reaction
to see
something
like
that
and my internal consciences'
reaction
to hearing myself
call another human being
a 'that'
im the monster
im the ugly one
im the one
who needs
to be
saved
my coworker--
in his intellectual kindness
comforted me to say
that it was our body's natural physical reaction
to something that we intuitively dont deem as safe
or could bring us harm, even by displaying harm itself
he very kindly, understandingly
laughed a little,
at my dismay
when i opened my conversation
by whimpering--
"Doug...I'm a terrible person"
he said,
that was natural too
he said we react a certain way
and we think--oh i must have reacted that way
because of this--but if i reacted that way
then i must be that--and if im that
then i must be this--
ie:
if i reacted that way
i must be judging him
if im judging him
i must not have a good heart
if i dont have a good heart
no one will like me
if nobody likes me
i wont be loved
if i think this way
i dont deserve
to be loved
and people who are
hard to love
are terrible people
therefore i must be
a terrible
person
etc.
when in truth, my body
is just responding
in a natural way,
a physical aversion
of something
that looks like
it causes pain
or is dangerous
its something
we dont want
to be
near
...loving people is hard
Jesus,
at least the stories about him
made it sound
a lot more straightforward
or easy
than it really
must have
been
i mean--seriously
no--
like
seriously
....lepers?
Jesus
loved
...lepers?
no wait--furthermore
Jesus
loved
lepers
i dont think im quite getting this
Jesus
...LOVED...
lepers?!
im recalling the way my eyes--
my whole body
must have stiffened
eyes frozenfor a dreadful moment
of realization
then a quick
turn away
an escape
as far
away
as possible
i dont even remember
getting from
the dining room's doorway where we both stood
to the office
where i sat shakily processing in my chair
upon realization
of what i was looking at
my feet
moved
on
their
own
trying to get my as far away as possible
to a place as safe as possible
i sat in the corner of the office pushed furthest from the side of the room
where the diningroom was where that client was standing
i tried drinking water
but the texture of the water against my tongue
was the first physical feeling
i became conscious of
since the moment my whole body went numb
when i realized what was on that man's face
and since it was the first physical feeling of touch
the consciousness of texture
brought me back
to thinking
what the texture
of his face
must
feel
like
and i shuddered--
almost gagging
on my own water
i was wringing my wrists
sitting up
sitting down
inhaling and exhaling
"i cant calm down"
i caught myself murmuring outloud
Doug, my coworker, was busy
so he didnt catch what i said
so the second and third time i murmured it
it was to myself
i wanted
to
cry
i felt violated
that my eyes--my own eyes
were exposed
to such
a sight
when i later told my aunt about the experience
her first question that made her shudder
was wondering
how it
smelled
...
we're all
such
creatures
of
disgust
my physical reaction
my mental switch to instant
fight or flight--in this case
FLIGHT!!
mode
my stomach turning
my heart's
raised eyebrow expression, duck-faced, zig-zag snaps
attitude of...
"mm-mm, girlfriend."
outright refusal
when my better thinking,
my desperate sense of morality
pleaded with it
to love the man
regardless
"no. effing. way."
already my mind was racing
with plans after plans of ways
i could avoid even LOOKING at him
ever, ever, ever, ever
again
...i couldn't do it.
...i still can't,
...but God
...how did You?
Jesus, friend of sinners, we have strayed so far away
We cut down people in your name but the sword was never ours to swing
...for a brief moment,
no matter how brief--
my heart
and mind
filled
with
its own
toxicity
Jesus, friend of sinners, the truth's become so hard to see
The world is on their way to You but they're tripping over me
The world is on their way to You but they're tripping over me
..i hated this man
for violating me
with the sight
of his face
before
mine
Always looking around but never looking up I'm so double minded
A plank eyed saint with dirty hands and a heart divided
A plank eyed saint with dirty hands and a heart divided
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners
Open our eyes to the world at the end of our pointing fingers
...i remember the days
when i wake up
and wonder
could i--
could this face
this tired
face
i see
in the
mirror
really
belong
to Him?
precious?
and beloved?
my self-esteem struggles
my heart drops
my confidence wavers
and the world
is my
judging
enemy
and i
hide
Let our hearts be led by mercy
Help us reach with open hearts and open doors
Help us reach with open hearts and open doors
...but in my worst of days
i've been
blessed
with
abundance
the worst i can regret of myself
are a few stretchmarks, id wish
i had worn
more lotion
for
..not a lifestyle
that destroys
so emotionally--
physically,
tangibly,
literally,
VISIBLY
...as his sins
have
on the only face
he has
to show
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks yours
i wonder...
what it's like
i couldn't
even
stomach
my horror
of looking
next
to me
to a face
so
disfigured
by
past
mistakes
i wonder
what
its
like
...i don't
dare
imagine
what
it's
like
...
to see
THAT same
disfigured
sight
every
morning
when i look
in
the
mirror
to see
such
scars
such
irreparable
damage
on
my
own
face
Jesus, friend of sinners, the one who's writing in the sand
Made the righteous turn away and the stones fall from their hands
Made the righteous turn away and the stones fall from their hands
..but even then
my "love" is limited
if i could
even
call
it that
my imagination is limited--
my mercy is limited
i hardly think
that Jesus'
greatest
pain
when empathized
with the pain
of a leper
was as centered
around
injured
vanity
as
mine
was
just now
in my
attempted empathy
Help us to remember we are all the least of these
Let the memory of Your mercy bring Your people to their knees
Let the memory of Your mercy bring Your people to their knees
He doesn't just see
the man i see
today
...
He sees
a little
boy
with hopes
and dreams
a child
who can't
be
a child
that somewhere
in there
he was always
meant,
originally
intended
to be
He sees a mother touching her pregnant belly,
a mother who is also his daughter
He sees a struggle
to bring life
into
this
heartless
world
He sees
a baby
chubby baby cheeks
a baby's smile
giggles
He sees
first
awkward
baby
steps
He feels
each
embrace
He's yearned
for so
long
to give
His child
He watches
in tears
as his child
is torn
away
heart
first
mind
and
body
after
struggle
brokenness
pain
cruelty
a life
that is no longer
life
but
survival
a joy
that is
no longer
joy
but
escape
through drugs
and other addictions
He sees
His child
broken
and
afraid
tired
angry
hurt
and crying
crying
crying
all the tears
his child
was never
allowed
to
cry
He cries
He
cries
in his place
Nobody knows what we're for only what we're against when we judge the wounded
What if we put down our signs crossed over the lines
What if we put down our signs crossed over the lines
and loved like You did
i threw stones
at that
man
even if it was just
in my mind--in my heart
in my natural aversion
i was
indignant
for my eyes--MY eyes
to be made victim
to such
a sight
picket fence signs
waved in the air
from my
hands
condemning
this man
i did not
know
condemning
the child
God held
so dearly
cried over
so many
days
i threw
rocks
at this
sobbing,
lost,
child
for even
daring
to come
near me
close enough
to
affect
me
ME
of all people
me
who mattered
so much
more /scoff
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners
Open our eyes to world at the end of our pointing fingers
Let our hearts be led by mercy
Help us reach with open hearts and open doors
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours
Open our eyes to world at the end of our pointing fingers
Let our hearts be led by mercy
Help us reach with open hearts and open doors
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours
...my heart
hates it
this uncomfortable
feeling
...i had to
look away
Lord...
I couldn't
even
STAY
there
remotely
NEAR
him
I literally--LITERALLY
RAN
away
disgusted
afraid
disturbed
offended
i couldn't
look him
in the
face
another human being
and the sight
was too much
to bear
my insides
turned
my cheeks
hurt
my throat
closed
and wanted
to gag
'Cause You are good,
You are good
and Your love
endures
forever
..it's after experiencing
what i did
today
and reading
that line
now
that i wonder
if i can even really,
in my broken state
in my
sinful
state
even
really
understand
what
"good"
means
i know what "good" is
or--sort of
in human terns
i know what "good" is
as we humans
understand it
...but good
Good.
Your level
of Good
is something
my sinful
heart
is still yet
to wrap itself around
to comprehend
You are good, You are good and Your love endures forever
You are good, You are good and Your love endures forever
You are good, You are good and Your love endures forever
You are good, You are good and Your love endures forever
You are good, You are good and Your love endures forever
suddenly,
all the words
sound like
a foreign
language to me
What does
'Good'
mean?
What does
'love'
mean?
What does it mean
to endure?
...how long is forever?
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners
Open our eyes to world at the end of our pointing fingers
Let our hearts be led by mercy
Help us reach with open hearts and open doors
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours
Open our eyes to world at the end of our pointing fingers
Let our hearts be led by mercy
Help us reach with open hearts and open doors
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours
...can we really handle
to even vaguely
glimpse
or briefly
experience
just
how
broken...
God's heart
must be
for us?
You love every lost cause; you reach for the outcast
For the leper and the lame;
they're the reason that You came
...Lord,
my reaction
to that man
today
suffocates me
with failure,
moral fatigue,
and an overflow
of open
hearted
disgust
and hatred
Jesus,
today,
the me
today
the me
of many
days
..feels like a lost cause
i sneered--
threw rocks
and ran
from the outcasts
cringed at the lepers
kicked at the lame
For the leper and the lame;
they're the reason that You came
...Lord,
my reaction
to that man
today
suffocates me
with failure,
moral fatigue,
and an overflow
of open
hearted
disgust
and hatred
Jesus,
today,
the me
today
the me
of many
days
..feels like a lost cause
i sneered--
threw rocks
and ran
from the outcasts
cringed at the lepers
kicked at the lame
Lord I was that lost cause
and I was the outcast
But you died for sinners just like me,
a grateful leper at Your feet
and I was the outcast
...yet i treated others the same way
my gut reaction, my natural tendency
is just that
But you died for sinners just like me,
a grateful leper at Your feet
...and all my human mind
is buzzing
with terror,
looking at this sight,
horrified
that you haven't
kicked
that
filthy
thing
away
or gagged
at the idea
that its decaying hands
made contact
with your bare sandalled skin
i am so
ashamed
of my
ugliness
that i cant
wrap
my mind
around
the idea
of You
accepting it
embracing it
daring
to come
near it
And I was the lost cause and I was the outcast
and You know this better than anyone else
you know these thoughts of mine
better than anyone else
...do You really love me Lord?
..could You?
Could You, really?
and not just that...
...do You really love me this much?
a grateful...and confused...leper at Your feet,
hannah
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