On being made Vulnerable.
Being made vulnerable was forced on me
Like a strong armed man beating his opponent to the ground
Or a wrench clasping and turning that bolt
Opening up the object held shut beneath it.
And so a real, deep sharing happened.
It was not that long ago
When the newness of life uncurled itself
And breathed it’s very, very first and precious breath.
How very deeply personal and precious
being made to be vulnerable is.
It is like handing the most delicate thing
Into the hands of another.
Will they receive the gift with the care it needs?
Will they trample on vulnerability itself
And laugh as they leave?
Being vulnerable hovers and hangs.
It hovers in that place between secret and known;
Between darkness and light
And it pushes and prods to rush out and scream
“I am here”
And so it was that deep things were shared
in that giving of myself all other parts changed.
I changed.
But this I know;
He was there then.
He is here now.
Shirt sleeves pushed up
As he carves and shifts,
As He carefully, thoroughly
Weaves His perfect pattern.
Yet, the struggle continues
It can not seem to find a resting place.
my thoughts are restless
my soul cries out to Him.
Oh how he washes his love and presence
It flows like a never ending river
Bringing life and hope
Because the cost for Him was complete
And He gave everything he had
The world? Oh much more.
He gave his all and I lost some too.
Yet he understands that, even that.
Thank you.
Being made to be vulnerable
Brought deep love
It revealed His hand and plan, in part.
Yet sadness and sorrow rested there too.
For haughty eyes and proud hearts
Gathered to peck at the remains.
When life runs smooth and kind
And struggles seem few
Beware, beware, beware!
For you know not the depth and toil
That another might have.
Rather let gratitude and love rest
You know not when time will call you
As it gathers the wind to blow and thrash
Upon the shores of your life.
Calling you to be made vulnerable.
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