here (GS6)

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Am I pure?
The question is laughable.
I know I’m not.
I know the thoughts.
I know the inner walls of my heart:
Caked sins of the past,
Dark slime of the present,
And the ominous shadow of tomorrow.

Look inside me, O God.
You see.
You know.
Why would you put in front of me
An ideal I will never reach?
Maybe the mindset is wider and longer.
Or maybe You mean to drive me
By the sheer weight of my impurity
Into your arms.

Holiness
May be what I long for,
And what I need,
But it is not what I have,
And the weight of a day
(More often than not)
Outweighs the weight of glory even when it’s a good one.
Is this wrong of me to say?
It’s the truth.

So I come crawling back to a Love I know
The arms of the One who forgives,
Each evening,
And as the dark falls round my empty heart
I rest in Your blood-soaked Purity,
Tested, tried, near.
Here.
And I am made clean.

You lift my stain from me
As if it were but a garment,
And not my nature.
And in these fractured streetlights
Painted on these broken walls
Of this small place,

I see You.

This can’t be just me.

My whole life will be
The asking and answering of the question: why?
And the collapse of a broken soul
Into You.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
Matthew 5:8

(Liturgical poetry for the Sundays between Epiphany and Ash Wednesday is inspired by the Beatitudes, Matthew 5:3-12. Photo by Linnea Wheeler.)

Inherit the Wind (GS1)
Rain-world (GS2)
Quitting (GS3)
Count My Bones (GS4)
Let me be (GS5)
careful of the cut (GS7)
Slap (GS8)

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