and she was grateful
that was the point.
and you tell me to be
and you tell me you've been there
and you tell me you know
and worse yet,
you tell me
i should know
...your human words make me sick.
as does my own.
...yet God, He keeps prompting
asking, challenging
for me to ask myself
...do i know?
do I know?
where you've been
because obviously,
you don't know
you have no idea
where i've been
what it's like
how it feels
....
to be SO
incredibly
unbelievably
unfathomably
...loved
that the whole world
feels like
it's crushed
your heart
in its
warm
embrace
and squeezed
the tears
right out
of your disbelieving
eyes
that can't
grasp
what they see
--they've seen
--they're seeing
--they've seen
--they're seeing
so tangibly
so truly,
so powerfully
in front of me
the love
of people
surrounding me
the love
of God
embracing me
consuming me
owning me
naming me
His.
...you have never felt love like i have, have you?
..even after
tide after tide
of my own
human words
and stomach turning speech.
..His.
He calls me
His own.
do you have any idea,
what it's like...?
the unsaid answer
rings in my covered ears
louder than any silence
i never bothered
to hear
[and here i am, a wretch
throwing stones
still fighting]
you can claim to tell me
that i don't know [how you feel]
but i'm too stubborn for that,
much too
arrogant
you can claim to tell me
that you do know [how i feel]
that you've been there
and
i'll
laugh
because
you have no idea
...and then
my own voice
dissipates
in the air
fading
into
the powerful silence
that makes room
for nothing less
grand
than His
words
realization
strikes
like a sudden
impact
on a gong
reverberating
the labrynth
of rooms--
understanding
echoing
against the walls
of my
thoughts
long after
impact
something
inside
me
is shaking
[and again,
more slowly,
more purposefully,
more sadly
it repeats.]
you
claim to tell me
that you do know
that you've been there
and
i'll--
have laughed
the cruelest
laugh
you claim to tell me
that you've been there
and i--
im crying
...because you
have no. idea.
...what it's like
to be loved
like
this.
i've never been
more
afraid
than the glimpses
of moments
when i put
myself
in your
shoes
and really,
that's
what im afraid
of
of
now
to live like this
to be so immersed
in pretend
that nothing
seems scarier
than what is
real
to be so
tangled
in self-deception
in others' compliant
deception
that to be free
would be the worse
punishment
the most unsafe
feeling
not to have
these strings
binding
my every
move,
guided
like a puppet
of my own
desires
when that
begins to be
what feels
secure
when freedom
begins to feel
like the cruelest
act of treason
anybody
could offer
that
is what frightens me
that kind of--
of existence
that life
...your life
frightens me.
it keeps me up
at night
in fear
that i will
become
part of it
robs me of
my sleep
because guilt
weighs down
pressed
like gravity
against
like gravity
against
my chest
knowing
i already
am
...dear uncle,
your life
frightens me.
and it breaks
my heart
to realize
it is mine
that you have never
truly
understood
and it breaks
all arrogance,
all self-righteousness,
indignance--
bitterness,
and hate
it crushes
the self-importance
the self-pity
the anger
right out of me
it pushes
the plank
further and further
swallowing
my vision
until finally--i can see
finally
it's all
i see
of me
your life
frightens me
and to think
that maybe
truly,
genuinely,
honestly,
you may be
incapable
of understanding
mine
breaks
the arrogance
right out
of me
splinters
the plank
in my eye
into a zillion
tiny
pieces
an explosion
of sawdust lies
burning
my vision
and crushing
my soul
to think
that this--this burning
this stinging
this penetrating
blindness
is what harbors
inside you
suffocating
your soul
this distrust
this lack of vision
of anything
better
i am
ashamed
of my anger
towards you
and yet i understand it--
finally, for the first
real time
i am angry
at the proximity
of the things
i do not wish
to become
and i am sorry
that i cannot help
but cycle
an ongoing
rejection of you
because of it
dear uncle,
i know
you will never
read this
but i never knew
the meaning--
the look
the face
or quivering
condescending voice
of a sad,
sad
man
until i met you.
i look at you--
or so,
i'd like to say
but to be honest
these days
i really dont
anymore
...i almost
cant
its abrasive
...abrasive
to the senses
to think
that
a fall
could reside
so
bottomlessly
in one
living
breathing
human
being
i find myself--i am
abrasive
to the senses
when my fears
consume
my actions
reactions
and taint
the love
i am afraid
of no longer
being able
to give
...Lord, you tell me
"they know not
what they do"
and it hurts because
i dont know
how true it is
for me to claim
that i
had no
idea
either
that i
rejected
blindly
..when in reality i
rejected
purposefully
innately
sincerely
there are days--
most days--
when i mean it
when i say
that everything
about him
goes against
everything
i have ever
valued
or believed in
...the cruelest words
from the bigger sinner
i have
rejected
him
far more
deeply
than he could
ever
reject
me
and yet i
hold it
against him
i choose to
i plan to
i...may continue to
hold it
against him
that
he did.
Lord,
my words
are not
the words
he needs
to hear
right now
...he needs
to hear
Yours.
Please, God,
speak
because I have said
too much
already.
i've stopped
listening
a long time ago.
dear uncle,
i'm sorry.
is what
i would love
to say
and mean
..but i don't know
if i am quite
there
yet.
please save, Lord,
what i cannot
please heal
what i
will not
please
forgive
what i
have let myself
become
and please,
more than that
on top of that
take my hand, Lord,
and guide me
please
guide me
out of these shadows that try to call my heart their home.
