Spacing out the timeline by which this happened. Sifting through the papers by which this happened in my mind, 'cause things are moving quicker and quicker as we age. Moving from one step to the next almost without pause for consideration about what the next step will be...
Maybe it's suppose to be that way. Maybe its Trust sitting at the table with me, asking me to follow it instead of the paper trail I believe I have. Talking at me that is not really in my control, that it's not really up to me. Not really mine at all.
But I battle Trust with barbs like, 'but look what i've done' and, 'see how I've built it'. And trust looks at me while I speak, seeing me.
Selfish, proud, belligerent, dirty and unremorseful am I to Trust. But he loves me.
He loves me. Busted and leaking. Soaking in my own guilt. Securing a place in the darkness, according to myself. But he thinks otherwise...
He thinks otherwise that I might have hope one day. hope in myself. Hope to heal myself. Those around me. Hope to have hope that I might one day be acceptable to Love.
And He knows I am acceptable to Love. Acceptable in my search. Acceptable in my selfishness, pride, belligerence, filthiness and unremorsefulness...made RIGHT by Love. Made Good.
And I sit, covered in the papers of my 'proof', made acceptable, made right, made Good. weeping. in awe. in Love.
M.
Thanks for sharing that Mike. That was very moving, and passionate, and real.
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