Raise your head
It’s time to say
Those words that I’ve left unsaid
I’ve slept through the sunrise
And I turned away every time it got bright.
I won’t run when it looks like love.
‘Looks Like Love’
I’m not a perfect woman. I’m not a model Christian. I’m nowhere near what I always thought You’d want me to be. I don’t look the part and You know that. It’s not my history or my present, as hard and as long as I’ve tried for it to be. I can’t see it being my future anymore, and I don’t want it. I used to want it so much.
You are the only One who has loved me as I am. There is a lot of freedom in that.
I don’t measure up on so many levels. I make decisions that others think are unwise, but I think them through. I calculate the risk. I ask what Love can get through, and the bottom line of Love is my Yes or my No. I won’t sterilize my heart and You didn’t sterilize Yours. I can’t help but realize the way you Loved me…You didn’t hold back anything. When I looked into Your eyes for the first time and felt You pull me into Your chest, there was no reservation. You loved me with certainty. I needed to be loved like that.
I was so scared that I’d never be loved. That I would always be so broken and ashamed and unprotected. But You changed all that. And I still cry thanking You for how You pursue me and change my situation.
I’ve learned that co-dependency is my lifelong condition, like an alcoholic, but You knew before you ever took my hand and showed me what Home looks like. You knew when You first brought me into your forever heart who You were promising to Love. There are no surprises. And You don’t change Your mind. Even when I want to run, feeling so inadequate, from the Love that is so much better than anything I have to give, You don’t run unless You are chasing me.
You know the love I’ve had for those I can’t keep. You’ve known my nature to go all in. To love in prodigal ways until I’ve got nothing more to give. Those are the times I realize the strong cords You’ve tied to me. The invisible Love that tethers me. In the depth of aching, at the end of my running, You take me in your hands and kiss me, undeserved. I know it shouldn’t be, and I love You all the more.
There have been times when I’m alone and I have found myself asking, out loud, Who is this person who is so kind to me? I’ve been humbled by kindness that shouldn’t be a part of my life, but is nonetheless. I have nothing to do with it. I don’t understand the Love that won’t let me be. I don’t understand the persistence with which You chase me, take me in Your arms. I’m not the One running to Your arms. You have run to me. Found me. Pulled me to You.
And I don’t understand You. How can I? I’m so small.
I can’t believe You still want to look at me. Listen. Pull me close.
I weep sometimes, because I don’t understand Your love for me. I can’t refuse it. I’m just so grateful that You do choose me. You are the Prize I could never win, but is mine. And I am Yours. Yours.
The years go by and it’s like I’m laying in the sands of time, somewhere out in the universe, and You are the one raking your fingers around my form, speaking words with Your eyes but not uttering a sound. I am bound by You. I am kept by You. I am Yours. And You? Somehow You are mine. And I can’t speak and You don’t need words. Nothing can separate me from You. This is the deepest peace.
It shouldn’t be. I’m not a model woman. I’m not a poster-girl for Christianity, not like everyone says. I cringe at the knowledge they don’t have of me. They don’t know me like You know me.
And yet here I am, happy that You still want to be with me, happy that You know me completely and Love me – it feels like more – than ever before.
I’m not running.