a whisper
a gentle tug.
in my darkest night
you were still calling me.
i heard your voice
through the crack under
my front door.
i couldn't bear to leave
you sat, through the
night with me.
your back against that
wooden door,
my head to my knees.
and you had me, then.
but there were parts of me,
from lack of faith
or my dreadful fear,
i kept hidden.
i don't know why
i stayed inside that house
for far too long.
broken up and bleeding,
unwilling to let you in.
but i'll say this,
i remember clearly,
the day i unlocked the door,
one deadbolt at a time.
slowly peeking around
the corner of my
brokenness;
the tears of my shame.
and i was shy.
i was still afraid.
though you'd given me no
reason to doubt you.
you opened every door, window
and vent.
you let the warm summer breeze filter
out all that stale
winter air.
you spoke to me of joy; of what
is coming.
you told me the stories
of your love greater than
death,
sin and shame.
you showed me the
marks,
the scars grace
left on you.
Jesus you,
have redeemed me.
