Stubborn

Acceptable

Rest

"Sometimes the most urgent thing you can possible do is take a complete rest" (A. Brilliant).

Message received loud and clear!

Somewhere toward the beginning of last week, my body began sending me signals that I needed to take it easy. As someone who loves my job, I, of course, chose to ignore the problem and continue on my feet in the classroom all the while trying to ignore the increasing pressure in my lower back. That was a mistake.

On Friday, I could barely get out of bed and was practically in tears on my way out of the house and into my truck to head to work. I knew I needed to be home, but it was the last day of class for my Discovery students, and we had a special event planned for them that I did not want to miss. Whether it was my stubborness or a just heightened sense of self-importance that made me head off to school is your guess.

I got to school, and my principal assisted me back out the door. I went home and straight to bed and there remained until Sunday morning. I read an entire book and started another, took a few naps, and caught up with friends on the phone. I said "no" to my obligations and other plans of interest, and remained confined within the walls of my house.

And it was refreshing.

It is easy for us to get caught up in the Sabbath legislation and forget the purpose behind God's command to rest. As it turns out, resting is an important aspect to our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health and well-being, but we don't do it very well. It wasn't too long ago that I read an article that explained how with modern technology, we are actually fitting 31 hours worth of work and activity into our 24 hour days. I wonder how long this can go on before each of us reaches our limit?

Even our Christian Sabbaths (Sundays) can be filled with so much obligation, preparation, and responsibility that there is little time left for the kind of quality rest that replentishes and renews. We talk often about addictions to drugs, alcohol, and other things but choose to ignore our addiction to busyness, which is just as destructive. Our American obsession with "productivity" and how that ties into our value and usefulness to society causes us to ignore some of our most fundamental needs -- like rest and worship and time with the people we love.

Isn't it funny how I always crave Chick-fil-A or need something from Hobby Lobby for student projects on Sundays? I respect their ability to not cave in to the money that can come from the Sunday market, but more importantly, I appreciate that they give their employees the opportunity to rest (whether they choose to rest or not).

I had no choice but to rest this weekend, so being incapacitated by lower back pain that restricted my every move might not have been such a bad thing in hind sight. That said, I will gladly accept the recovery!

After all, I head back to work on Monday.

Place

"But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:16).

Isolated, wild places have always been spiritual places to me, and they have been the source of some of my most profound experiences of life and faith. I find it difficult to explain the sense of life and perspective that comes from removing myself from the busyness of city and planting myself in the midst of wild beauty.

I find God in those places.

It's not that he isn't among us in the Denver metro area. I've experienced his presence in the classroom and the living room, in traffic jams and coffee houses, in large crowds and one-on-one street corner conversations. Nor does he exist only in trees and rock and landscape since none of those natural things actually are God, but I can certainly touch, feel, and smell the creativity of God and be reminded of my place in his universe.

I suppose it's not that I find God in the desert or on the mountain, but I am certainly better tuned to hear the whispering of his spirit when everything that distracts or drowns is gone. I enjoy being stripped of all that is artificial and man-made only to sit exposed, raw, and real before him and without all those "things" upon which I have built my life. I can sit alone with my thoughts and sense the straightening-out that God alone can do when we take the time to be one on one.

He restores my soul.

When I am in the wild places, I go there in the tradition of the Desert Fathers, the Apostles, the Patriarchs, the Prophets, and Jesus -- all of whom went to wild places to commune with God stripped from distraction. They, too, knew the value of those lonely places and were nourished by every word that came from the mouth of God!

A couple weeks back, I joined my friend Jonathon in the Great Basin Desert on the Utah/Nevada state line. As we were driving along US 50, we came across a large, dry lake bed that seemed to stretch for nearly 30 miles. Never satisfied with staying on the main road, we took a diversion and headed out into the desert to find access to this fascinating landscape. Upon reaching the edge of this ancient lake bed, we left the truck behind and walked.

Surrounded by this vast expanse, I was keenly aware that I was but one small dot. I felt small but significant. I thought about those things which seem to loom large over my life, and standing in this great, open landscape seemed to put even those things into perspective.

Perspective.

Peace.

Presence.

I felt the ministry of God's spirit in that place, if only for a moment. A moment was all I needed.

Those solitary places are important to me, and so are the people with whom I share my life. Through both people and place, the Father continues to meet me.

In the next article, I will write about how I feel God meets me in service.

Opposite

People

"While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew's house, many tax collectors and 'sinners' came and ate with him and his disciples" (Mt. 9:10).

When I was a child and on up through my teen years and beyond, I was afraid of people due to a lack of self-confidence and a deep-seeded insecurity that I'm sure sprung from my fatherlessness. My fear of people, consequently, kept me at a distance and made it rather difficult to establish deep, connected relationships with others unless they were willing to go the extra mile to meet me. I spent a lot of my early years missing out on substance and depth and the life-giving good stuff that comes from those inter-personal connections.

The writer of the Psalms says, "God sets the lonely in families" (68:6), and that has certainly been the story of my life. Even before I knew the significance of deep, connected human relationships, God began placing significant people in my life and began the process of healing even while I was unaware. I recognize the sacred, strategic placement of specific people in my childhood who I am certain brought the incarnational touch of God into my life. Fast forward to the present day, and God continues to meet me in such a way.

I believe as a follower of Christ matures, there begins a necessary outward focus of one's life. While we continue to receive the Father's ministry in our own lives, we are compelled by the Spirit of Christ within us to love and serve others as Christ. For me, this means that where God served me, I am serving others; the place where God met me, I meet others.

It is in the presence of people that I have some of my most profound, spiritual experiences.

When we take the time to be with people, I believe the Spirit of God is present whether I am with other believers or not. Where I go, he goes, and that gives every human interaction the potential for sacred significance. Those hundreds of daily interactions with students, friends, neighbors, family, and strangers become substantial as we bring the presence of God into their lives and deposit something of worth and value. I am keenly aware of this potential everyday as I seek to serve my students...

Where I go, he goes.

Incarnation.

The Spirit of God connecting with flesh and blood.

What a novel idea!

I've got a lot of time for people, and I enjoy those expected and unexpected interactions with others. It's satisfying to be with people and recognize the imprint of the Creator in their soul and enjoy their company as Jesus enjoyed the company of those whose tables he gathered around. It's good, also, to recognize my dependence on others and to be reminded of my dependence upon God. As I seek to follow Christ, I know now more than ever my need for interdependence and to trust his work in my life through those who come close. I do not want to live outside of this community.

Although there are times when I appreciate and need solitude and quiet places, I will not dismiss my call to come along side people and to allow the Father to do the same in my life through others.

In the next article, I will explore how I believe God meets me in place.

Dirty

Contact

"We are spiritual beings on a human journey."

I had a lot of time to myself over the weekend as I traveled 17 hours round trip to spend some time with a friend of mine. As if by design, my CD player in my truck quit working at the time I was crossing 500 miles of desert with few people in need of any sort of radio station. Consequently, I was left with my own thoughts and the ever-invading presence of God.

Not that I minded.

It was a great weekend, one of those weekends that refreshed and replenished what my normal day-to-day living can take out of me. In between the random John Denver and Pete Seeger songs that I couldn't get out of my head, I found myself thinking about some of my deepest and most profound spiritual experiences. When I say "spiritual experience", I am not talking about some artificially LSD induced euphoria or a sensational moment of enlightenment, but I refer to those places where I believe God continually meets me, those places where I sense a closeness to God.

Contact.

Although I've been warmed in the embrace of God through prayer and meditation, I've seen the miraculous before my eyes, and I've fallen on my face when confronted with painful life lessons, I realize that my most substantial moments of spiritual formation didn't come through the most common or even expected of Christian conduits. Those deep, inner moments of significance with God in my life have been primarily built around the frameworks of people and place, scripture and service.

Some would say that our experiences with God should be similar and uniform, and so they prescribe rituals and traditions to help their people embrace God and experience a sense of his presence. One of my most profound spiritual experiences comes through the ordinance of feet washing according to John 13 and as practiced among many congregations and Christian communities.

While I value the place of tradition, I'm not so convinced that simply following prescribed formulas produce great moments with God. They may or they may not. How often have I heard the following formula as the path to God: read the bible + pray + go to church + don't sin = success in the Christian life! How many believers have followed that formula only to feel disenfranchised, disappointed, and distant from God and then be told to read more, pray more, attend more services, and sin even less.

Most of those profound moments with God have been outside the sanctuary (or even the sanctioned).

While I value the spiritual disciplines, I sometimes wonder if God isn't a bit more creative in how he chooses to approach us and connect with us. What else can explain his presence at the table, or the encounter on the street with a homeless man that leaves me feeling as though I had just served Christ, or the peace with God I get in the middle of the wilderness? He knows our language, and he knows our need. I'm sure he knows just how to connect.

I am going to take some time to write about those four places where I believe God continually connects with me in the next few articles.

Ego

Hear

"It's a rare person to hear what he doesn't want to hear" (Dick Cavett).

Ego is a powerful thing. And when it is shouting, it is hard to hear the voice of God above it.

Our headlines have been full of people who claim to speak for God but carry little evidence that they have actually heard God. We have, again, been witness to man's ego attempting to usurp God's Kingdom, and when that happens, destruction follows. All sorts of evils can be unleashed by the tongue of a man who dares to misrepresent God. "Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark" (James 3:5). Though a small spark, things can quickly become enflamed by the winds of modern, global communication. A small man can do great harm.

It wasn't too many years ago that the damage of words was limited to word of mouth. We'd gossip at church or speak ill of our neighbor or call each other names on the playground, but the damage never went very far. Today, a small man leading his miniature empire of 50 people can stir up winds of unrest and hatred the world over. Suddenly, our words have become much more significant.

And dangerous.

It's easy for the self to take over and do the convincing that we are speaking on behalf of God. This is nothing new, however, since the biblical record is full of the stories of false prophets. Although they unleashed damage, false prophets were usually "taken care of" by either God's people or God himself. In our latest example of a man who does not speak for God, we can only hope that the voices of God's people will be heard above his.

I appreciate and respect words, and I love to write them. I know many of the people who read this blog from time to time, and many of them are people I know and trust. Some of them are people with whom I would disagree on a few things here and there, but they are important to me nonetheless. When I write, I think about them. My conscience keeps me aware of my brothers and sisters in faith, and their unwitting presence in my writings keeps me accountable. I know I must think very thoroughly about what I write, and their distant presence in my life causes me to go again and again to the scriptures we love. I do not want to misrepresent.

As a teacher (and husband and friend and pastor, etc.), I know how incredibly destructive words can be. I do those in my life a great disservice when I forget the power of my words and use them for harm. How many people carry with them the scars of wounding words? How much damage has been done by those responsible for speaking life but have instead spoken words of death and destruction?

The false prophets will always be with us (and they will be shouting). How much more important is it that we hear the true Voice of God and speak words of life?

"If I speak in the tongues of men and angels but have not love, I am only a noisy gong or clanging cymbal."

I Corinthians 13:1

Mouth

Title

Confession

"A true spiritual leader makes it safe for you to show yourself..." (R. Rohr).

The Anabaptist tradition of my upbringing instilled within me an appreciation for a doctrine called "The Priesthood of All Believers" which is an idea that we need no mediator between ourselves and God except Christ. (That's just part of the doctrine, really.) I was taught that I didn't need a priest to go to God and find forgiveness because that's what Jesus does. I wonder, though, how much of this belief gets translated into idealistic individualism that says, "I don't need a priest, and I also don't need you."

We do need each other.

By and large, there is a rejection of "confession" as a notion and as a practice among Protestant traditions, and many believers particularly reject confession as practiced by our Catholic brothers and sisters. Even within the Catholic community, the confessional is gradually falling out of use. I think the absence of confession is leaving a gaping hole in the spiritual health of the church. Let me explain.

Despite the mandate of scripture that we should confess our sins, many of us continue to keep our sin and struggles well tucked away from all others, wrestling with them quietly and giving those things leverage over our lives. I like what James wrote in chapter 5 verse 16 in the context of prayer and healing: "Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed." The "each other" part is very significant here. If James were convinced that healing came from a man praying for himself, he would have said so. There must be something significant about bringing your sins and struggles to others.

The Christian faith must be lived in mutuality.

There's a big difference, too, in confessing your sins to one another and confessing your sins to everyone. Although we are a "kingdom of priests", not everyone can be trusted with the special care, grace, and discernment required for healthy confession. I wouldn't expose my jugular to anyone with a knife and a reputation for using one, nor would I confess my sins and struggles to someone who would use such information for leverage, power, or destruction.

True confession would lead to love (not leverage), freedom (not control), and healing (not condemnation). It would look like Jesus.

The point of confession among believers isn't just the forgiveness of sin but is also healing. I have experienced the washing away of guilt or pain or darkness when I have confessed my weaknesses, struggles, and sins with a trusted brother or mentor. For men especially, getting thoughts outside of the darkness of our minds can be liberating enough to bring about tremendous healing and re-set our course in the right direction. We don't do well alone with our thoughts.

Confession is also a sign of the spiritual health of a congregation and the individual believer. I think when people feel safe enough to confess, it surely must reflect an authentic presence of mercy and wisdom in the life of the one's hearing the confession. I tell you this...it is certainly humbling to be on the receiving end of someone's deepest confession. There are fewer things, in my experience, that are received with such a weight of responsibility.

It is my belief that people discover the love and grace of God when they experience it from God's people. By the look of things, I'd say we could use a little more of it.

Transparency

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Jesus, Mt. 5:3).

Where grace persists and people take seriously the communion of the Body of Christ (in other words, the community of followers of Christ), you will see transparency at work. I think our level of transparency with one another is a sign of health in a church and a measure of the loving, restorative nature of our ministry to one another.

Transparency is good for us. All of us.

Transparency puts to death our need to preserve our reputation rather than pursue true spiritual formation. Rather than giving in to the urge to portray ourselves as something we are not, honesty and transparency about our weaknesses keeps us dependent upon God's grace (and others!). Even Paul, whom many admire as a great man, understood the important role of "the thorn" to keep us from becoming conceited and in a state of dependence. For as much as we read all the bravado in Paul's writings, we cannot skip over his level of transparency and honesty about his own life!

Transparency liberates from the guilt and condemnation that comes from battling things privately in the secret confines of our own minds. I know it to be true for myself...when I talk things out with a trusted friend, things aren't nearly as dark and dismal as I had played them up to be. I've known a lot of personal healing through bringing thoughts out of the "darkness" in my mind and bringing them into the light or open. This has been one of my favorite aspects of authentic community!

Transparency teaches and leads others through our example. When we determine to live in transparency, others learn through us and often find the freedom to discover tangible grace for themselves. Doctrines and dogmas, facts and statistics do little to sway people, but the sharing of one's own personal stories, warts and all, can cause people to relate to the inner working of God's Spirit like nothing else.

Transparency stimulates gracious, merciful living towards others. I am convinced that the reason why people find it so difficult in practicing mercy is because of how little they have experienced it themselves. Once we have opened ourselves to being beneficiaries of the grace of God, we have the grace to dispense towards others. Mercy begets mercy, and it starts to defeat whatever remains of the "unmerciful servant" in us (Matthew 18). I believe it causes us to be less uptight and less judgmental of others and helps to develop an appetite within us for bringing people to life!

Through trusted honesty, our real, raw humanity can be met with the tangible grace of God. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest with a men's ministry I admire, said this: "A man who owns his limitations and weeps over his sin is much more effective than one who thinks he has neither." Transparency and honesty -- especially in authentic community -- keeps us real and keeps us dependent (though we may fear both!).

A month ago, I was talking with a colleague who happened to be very outspoken at a team meeting while challenging some things that were coming out of his manager's mouth. I admired his ability to speak the truth on behalf of all of us, knowing that he was risking his job in the process. When I began to heap my admiration upon him, he stopped me and said this: "I don't want you to be under the impression that I am a brave man. I've just got a great job offer in the works and I have nothing to lose!"

I laughed.

How true! We've got nothing to lose! Apart from Christ, I have no reputation before God. "Jesus Christ is my only reason for boasting."

Hide

"...confess your sins to each other and pray for each other that you may be healed" (James 5:15).

The most common threat every child carries with them in their prepubescent vocabulary is the phrase "I'm going to tell on you!" Such threats can strike fear into the hearts of children in playgrounds and on monkey bars everywhere. Generally, there were just a handful of students who had the reputation of being tattlers, but we learned to avoid them altogether or alter our conversation and behavior whenever they came around. We learned how to survive by mistrusting those who couldn't keep their mouth shut or pretending to be doing something else whenever they were around.

As adults, we've perfected these techniques first learned in childhood. We were taught to hide, but we mastered concealment and secrecy by our teen years and on into adulthood. This, unfortunately, can have serious consequences for our mental health and even spiritual development and transformation. Our emotional, mental, and spiritual health is always tied into community, so whenever we attempt to "go at it alone", we seldom find success or resolve -- quite the opposite, in fact. Community, especially authentic Christian community that is immersed in wisdom and grace, has trememdous power to transform and heal. Despite biblical counsel to confess our sins to one another, it is probably not broadly practiced among believers today. It may be normal to hide, but it is not healthy.

"...confess your sins to each other and pray for each other that you may be healed" (James 5:15).

I think there are generally two reasons why people hide their struggles and sins, soft spots and sore points: shame and protection. I can understand both. No one likes to air their dirty laundry in the presence of others. Shame and the subsequent act of hiding is one of the oldest recorded behaviors of man (Genesis 3). God, in his mercy, made a covering for them so they would not be ashamed. So, too, should we be careful to cover those who have either been made vulnerable or have exposed themselves by their own choosing.

As far as protection, anyone who has had the awful experience of having their secrets or insecurities used as leverage against them by people who seek to manipulate and control has obvious and credible reasons to keep themselves tucked safely away. Why would anyone openly invite judgment, condemnation, ridicule, or isolation? I am convinced many people don't seek out confession within the Body of Christ because they do not feel safe to do so.

Our fear of one another causes us to bear false witness.

Hiding, among other things, prevents us from experiencing transformative grace, robs us of authentic living and deep community, increases our isolation, feeds self-destruction, and stunts the spiritual maturity and growth of the church. It gives us a sense of false-security but never quite takes away the fear of being found out. That's why the security is false.

When I first went into ministry, there were any number of elder pastors who advised me to be sure to never develop deepened, trusting relationships within the congregations I served. While I should move close to the people I was called to serve, I was advised never to allow them too close to me. For some reason, it was important to keep the insecure, weak, or worried parts of me hidden while the man of strength took center stage. I don't believe this now, and -- quite frankly -- it didn't sit right with me when I first heard it. What an unhealthy approach to life (and ministry)!

One of those irkish little things about being a pastor is how quickly some people morph and change their behavior whenever I am around. I say "some" because I have been priviledged to be around many truly authentic people. Just occasionally, I get to witness the verbal acrobatics some people perform in order to pull off the act of concealment. It's awkward. It makes me feel awkward, and they look awkward. I prefer the company of the authentic over pretense and posturing any day, yet I can understand why some would do it.

I can never forget those countless moments with youth and grown men who have quietly, in the confines of safe places, relieved themselves of the secrets of their hearts, the battles of the mind, or the bruises of yesteryear and found healing and redemption in Christ. I have seen grown men weep and broken men laugh as the mercy of God intersected with their greatest need.

Often I have heard comments about how young people these days are "so far out there". I believe what we are often observing is their backlash against face, pretense, and hiding -- a rebellion against the inauthentic...and this is one of the traits of post-modernism. They want to be known. While I can appreciate their "soul streak", many of them still lack the community and support of those who can offer the foundational things that they are craving. I dream of a church with a heart prepared to engage and serve others at their greatest point of need.

The survival techniques of our youth don't necessarily do us any good as we grow towards maturity. The challenge is in finding our way forward...

Next article "Transparency".

Face

"Most people spend their entire lives projecting, protecting, and maintaining this fiction" (Richard Rohr).

Zhang Haihua, author of "Think Like Chinese" says this about image: "Face, we say in China, is more important than life itself." I read this quote in an article written about how Chinese businesses hire white people to show up at events in order to give their products or services legitimacy. These businesses and institutions hire actors to show up, speak a few lines in English that no one understands, and be seen. Apparently, the illusion of white involvement sells. The actor gets paid before moving on to his next gig.

This need for self-misrepresentation isn't, however, just a Chinese phenomenon. We, too, live in a culture obsessed with image and illusion. From the time we are young, we are taught to put our best face forward and hide any part of us that might bring ridicule or judgment. We've mastered this in the church as well and have therefore missed out on a dynamic aspect of our lives together. In our efforts to keep up a reputation, many of us have simply faked it to make it.

In the backrooms of trust and grace, I have encountered many people whose need for acceptance and love was so great that they found it necessary to hide the parts of themselves they felt would be judged by others (struggles, insecurities, fears, sins, etc.). Whether we want to admit it or not, we in the church may be guilty of creating the very hypocrisy we hate. Rather than finding the safety in the Body of Christ for true confession, we keep those parts well hidden for fear of judgment, isolation, and rejection -- or shame. Consequently, if a person's struggles, weaknesses, or sins become public, they often get hammered by those who wouldn't have tolerated their transparency in the first place but still accuse them of "pretending to be something they are not".

Actress Salma Hayek once said, "So many people are busy trying to create an image, they die in the process." (Did I really just quote Salma Hayek?) I can't imagine the consequences of a humanity more interested in image than substance, but we don't need to look too far to see its effect on the human heart, mind, soul, and body. Perhaps this is one of many reasons why confession is so desperately needed in order to bring healing, grace, and mercy to man's condition caused by a pagan individualism that keeps him trapped in his own mind and a victim of his own battles.

I've been thinking about the subjects of hiding, transparency, and confession lately as I've been reading about ancient Christian practices. I still believe the church is called to that place where Jesus intersects with the world's needs, and I can't help but believe that followers of Christ who live their lives in transparency and who practice confession will have a profound, healing, life-giving presence with neighbors and brothers alike. God knows this generation is crying out for authenticity and transparency.

Image is killing us, but many of us are running after it like it is the source of all life!

"...everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind" (Ecclesiastes 2:11).

Next article "Hide"

Cost

"Suppose one of you wishes to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it?" (Luke 14:28).

I remember hearing great sermons in the past on "counting the cost of discipleship". They were usually stark reminders of how the disciple of Christ would be rejected by the world and how much we must be willing to pay the price to be a follower of his. I found these sermons to be refreshingly grim reminders that the Way of Christ was not meant simply for our pleasure but for his purpose...and those purposes usually conflict with our desire for comfort, safety, and "success".

I've been thinking of "counting the cost" in other ways lately, not so much in terms of rejection by the world but rather rejection by those you have loved and served. It goes without saying that a lot of what Jesus taught conflicts with the world's systems and values, but to experience the raw, abraisive rejection of those you have given your life to...now that's something else.

That's the Way of Christ.

We often talk of sacrificial love, but I wonder how much I really understand what that means. Sometimes, I think I equate "sacrificial" with money or inconvenience. Is the amount of time and money invested in someone the indicator of "sacrificial"? I'm not so sure. Was Jesus inconvenienced at the cross?

The love of God for humanity took Christ to that hill, and Jesus gave while expecting nothing in return. The very people he gave his life for rejected him at the moment of his sacrifice. And yet he gave. I am humbled by the forgiveness Jesus demonstrated while on the cross, but I am amazed by the willingness to sacrifice his body while possessing the fore-knowledge of the rejection. Love anyhow. I want to love like that. I want to learn from that.

If we want to love like Christ, we can expect nothing in return from those we love and serve. When rejection is heaped upon our gifts, it is easy to say "I'm done" and write the whole matter off...but something in my soul compels me deeper. Can the love of Christ keep me from rejecting those who have rejected me? God, I hope so.

No matter how hurtful, hateful, and venomous the rejection may be, people are worth my time, worth my money, and worth my life. There is, of course, one young man in particular that I am thinking of tonight.

Stick around a church long enough and you might hear something about how Jesus identifies with us in his suffering. Sometimes it is good to have it the other way around. I need to identify with him, grow in him, love like him. Proverbs 4:7 says, "Though it cost all you have, get understanding." It causes me to wonder how much I'm willing to pay to get a better understanding of the Way of Christ.

Frayed

A Thought for the Frayed

I feel so frayed

Like a rug

Trampled on

Torn at the edges

Worn thin in places

The people come

And go

I am left

With my holes

And my flaws.

But there is more

To me than this

I can be more

Because you made me

To be more

I am not a rug

Beaten and scorned

I am something

Beautiful

A tapestry -- a story.

I am loved

My imperfections

Are nothing

To the one Who wove me

He does not see

The worn out holes

Tattered corners

He sees the beauty

I am more

Because he

Made me to be.

-- author unknown

Others

Wilderness