dust-covered Grace

 

When I think of you, I think of peace

I think of hope

I think of grace

 

I know these things

I understand these things

I believe these things

 

But I still feel a knot in my gut

A churning

A need

To say “I am sorry”

For all I cannot do

For all I cannot overcome

For all I cannot provide

To You who provided it all

 

See, it’s different down here

People think in facts and equations and science

What is absolutely evident and provable

People love in moderation

Side hugs and pats and quarter-moon smiles

 

But it’s different up there

There aren’t problems

Earthly ones or the ones you solve in math books

And people don’t understand how you could love, not someone

But everyone, the anti-thesis of moderation

Knowing no boundaries, hating this division

 

How you replace logic so swiftly

Showering incomprehensible peace on anyone who

Cannot overcome

Cannot provide

Cannot say “I am sorry”  

 

But someone once told me that I will never be enough

So one day I stopped trying to overcome

I stopped trying to provide

I stopped saying “I am sorry”  

 

When I realized I had

A churning

A need

To release control, to be consumed 

And a pair of red stained hands stretched out to me

Holding something small but recognizable 

 

And I took a step in my dark closet full of lies

And blew off that dust covered grace

And wore it with pride