I am

There are a lot of adjectives you could use to describe me: loud, selfish, arrogant, ignorant, cynical. I’m a million negatives and paltry few positives. I have a tendency to live in the past and count my scars over and over. I’m a hypocrite and I talk a good talk but fall when the time comes to walk. I like the illusion of control better than submission even when I know it’s nothing but smoke and mirrors. I am, in the end, nothing good.

I’m a painted vase on a shelf, all carefully drawn lines and colors and intricate designs. I’m lovingly crafted but empty still. I can be looked upon and praised but I’ll stand, useless, on my own. I am not filled; I can not fill myself.

I’m a child; stubborn, naïve, inexperienced. I’ve plugged my ears to wiser ones who’ve come before and made my path as smooth and passable as it is. I’m convinced that all I’ve achieved is from my own will and hands and heart. On my own I am incapable of reaching anything or surviving the things I’m obliviously protected from.

I am the prodigal son, asking for much and giving nothing, only to wind up with nothing. I am the elder son, indignant in my tenuous entitlement to the gift of Life.

I am Sarah, laughing at the promises given and doubting the abilities of an incredible God.

I am the woman at the well, letting my human wounds and fear move me to turn my back on faith.

I am Peter, placing so much value in what others think that I deny own salvation.

I am Thomas, asking skeptically for signs before I give my life.

I am Paul, doing what I don’t want to do and not doing what I do want to do.

I am so much and yet so little, all of it awful. I am the foremost of all sinners and everything wrong with this world.


And then, there’s You.

You are hushed and quiet; soft-spoken in the most violent of storms. You are incomprehensible, unstoppable, never-changing, all-consuming, everlasting. You are the reason the sun makes way for the moon at night and chases it again every morning. You are reliable in your consistency; unchanging but far from boring.

You are misunderstood, doubted, blamed and ignored yet you remain faithful to these skeptical people. You are not just everything good – You are everything and that which makes everything good.

You are the Light on the road to Damascus that opened Saul’s eyes and transformed him into Paul.

You are the wounds that convinced Thomas.

You are the forgiveness that redeemed Peter.

You are the Living Water that slaked the woman at the well’s thirst.

You are the Creator of Life that silenced Sarah’s cynicism.

You are the waiting Father, welcoming both the wayward and the self-righteous with open arms.

You are where I began and where I will end.

You are the Friend I run to; the Father I want to make proud; the Lover who encompasses all that I desire. You are the unconditional love I am desperate to receive and anxious to emulate.

You are all that I’m not. On my own I can do so little, but because of who You are, I find I believe that I can.