I’m in awe of what you’ve done,
wholly, fully completing your covenant with me,
knowing the depths of my shame,
walking through the ugly mire of worldly sludge, brokenness, and defilement,
thrust into the pain of sin around you,
accusation, betrayal, and condemnation.
You are the Son of God,
yet you counted yourself as nothing
for love –
love of God, love of the world,
your creation, your handiwork, your poetry,
love of me.
I can’t believe I can come with my broken wares,
my ashes of shame and self-hatred,
dropping them at your feet
with my knees and head prostrate,
realizing I can be free because you paid the price for me.
I praise you for this trade of mercy and grace,
where I can only receive,
humbling my heart to see clearly my emptiness and poverty,
and I’m amazed that for ashes, grief, and despair,
you would give me beauty,
and a garment of praise.
You are good God, and I will never forget your kindness,
I am yours, and you are mine.
I bless my Beloved,