He Who Holds My Heart

He Who Holds My Heart

I wake up in an unusual spectrum of stillness draping over the coastlines of the glistening Aegean Sea. The quiet unveiling of sky is a paradox of the early morning turmoil I cradle inside.

I hear Your voice, sounding so close and certain. You call my name and I swear it’s the most beautiful music that pierces through my bones and flows with my blood, healing every decaying parts of my soul.

There are thousand anecdotes in me, aching to be told.

I start telling You about my guilt and shame. How Satan fluently recites my sins every night. He says all the ways I am unworthy of You. I am impure. It took me away from You. I wanted to hide, Lord. I am ashamed.

You cry and tell me about the time you walked miles, carrying the unbearable weight of the Cross, to Mount Calvary where you’re crucified. Your blood drenched the unforgiving soil to wash away my sins. You have redeemed me. This is the truth.

I tell you about my pain, how I feel betrayed. I tell you what the world did to me. I tell you about my heartache when I loved someone who wasn’t for me.

For a moment, you allow me to cry on your shoulder as your loving arms enfold me. You tell me how you endured 39 lashes and the agonizing pain of thorns crowning your head. You’ve been betrayed, persecuted, humiliated. All because you love someone so much.

I want to tell you about my fears, my doubts and regrets. But we bask in silence, and there you make me feel understood and validated. You know it all – my past, my future and everything I’m going through. I am completely known.

“I know all of your flaws, all of your mistakes and I love you the same.”

 I ask you why.

And You say, “because you are Mine.”

Sparks and Poetry

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