I was struck with the recollection of a somber moment from years ago.
It was yesterday, it was a lifetime away, and I wasn’t the one in the memory.
I was the one in the memory at the time.
Subtle clues told me that I was, but that I couldn’t be anymore.
Yet here I am, touched again in that all too sore place of regret.
When do I get to release it to the ether so that time does in fact heal
the wounds?
But, that’s just the ache talking, as it does when I realise that it wasn’t because
of horrible circumstance… it was because I put myself before someone else.
A dearly loved one was maimed at their core, and something concrete died.
The last real piece of my soul left that day, and I was caged in my freedom.
judged and dismayed
With the words that I never said, my ears kept ringing until I was deaf to the din,
my lips now dumb and unable to express truth.
But, I am told that I have reconcile within the obedience to the One whose sacrifice
trains death to death and self to self.
A waste to not accept the gift in light of beautiful, atrocious business.
life borne on the cross
ideal fused with sweat and blood mingled down
So, I am confronted with forgiveness, which feels like another language that I never learned.
So, I am confronted with my own feeble attempts to relinquish the hold of punishment for
my own atrocities as I refuse the grace and only accept the pain.
I deserve it because my pride says that I should never have put myself before anyone else
ever
My standards are insults
Divine expression is perverted by the whole scandalous process, and the gifts become waste
8:01 am
13 April 2010
