Oh, My God

Rudy said “I’m still trying to make my shadow believe I am something worth following,” and it reminded me of last Thursday when God said, “You are worthy of me loving you.” I didn’t listen to either. If my walls could talk, they would have much to say for they see the things I hide; they have tasted blood, the blood I spattered on them when I mistook the power of death the knife had for freedom from sadness. But my God is telling me that I am worth it and I just don’t understand! I told God that I was too dirty and broken for Him to love. I reminded Him of how I committed fornication with hate, lust, and greed and you know what He did?! He laughed at me; laughed so hard that it brought tears to his eyes and seeing Him cry broke my heart. So I asked Him, “Aren’t you tired of me making you cry. My God how stubborn you are!” He smiled again, held my face ever so gently, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” “How can you love me?” I asked. He wasn’t being rational . So He silenced my tongue and told me my words no longer improved upon the silence He needed to work and that it was His turn to speak. So I listened. “When you poisoned your body with hate and begged for death, I was there. It was because I love you that I didn’t allow them to have power over you. When that man made lies of your scripture and truth, tainting the innocence, I was there. I died for you. When mankind mistook your fragile and loving heart for a doormat, I made a note of it. When you roamed like a motherless child and needed comfort, that Spirit you felt was me! When you fell over your insecurities and crashed face first into your demise, I said be still. I made a note of it. My child, I have been fighting for you since before you knew what sin’s touch felt like. You have no idea the plans I have for you. But your stubbornness is killing us. You are not Palestine. I did not name you Jezebel. I made you in my image, I made you a blueprint of beauty and kindness. I stamped my seal of authenticity upon your forehead and my name on your heart. So let it beat for me. I made you to touch lives and to die to yourself. You have no idea what I know. I have seen everything. I have heard your cries. When you thought I was not there, I was. So please my child, my beautiful child, please stop. Stop talking and beating yourself up, take my hand, forgive yourself because I already have. My child believe me when I say, I love you.”

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