little house

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.