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

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