| Apart |
Sometimes I am astounded at my own arrogance.
I want so much to gaze into the face of God,
But I love my own eyes too much.
So…I look away.
“Oh Father, Your child is so lost—”
I want to say—
What is wrong with me?
I trust myself too much, and so I despise myself.
What is identity if not blurred with Your image?
What is trust without Your wounds?
I seek answers but cannot stomach the questions.
I am a darkling who defies a White King.
There is a part of me that stands apart.
Will you find it, Father?
Can it be found?
Can You save me?
Flickering hope, a glimpse of Your gentle smile.
I know it never dies.
I want to cry.