Tightrope

Over the weekend I was at a youth retreat, which was amazing and refreshing, and I was inspired to write this poem. Some background on it first: For a long time, I've let my shame overwhelm me when I've sinned and I've probably spent more time beating myself up over it than remembering I'm saved by His grace. I've also spent a great deal of time in a vicious circle as well, not bothering to try to get out of it since I've told myself I'm going to fall right back in anyway. However, by His power and love, things have changed.

Tightrope

With shaky, bare feet,

clenched fists,
and a held-in scream,
I walk on a tightrope.

Red footprints
behind me, bloody
raw wounds.
My stabbing shame,
crushing guilt,
are the sharper pain.
I deserve this.

Far enough
from Him
so I can't see his face
when I stumble
into embracive darkness
below.

Far enough
from His voice
so I can't hear
when He calls out.
The sound of his tears
is unbearable.

Close enough
to my sin
when the monster
beckons.
I know it will feed
on my soul.

Close enough
to my vicious circle,
the self-loathing
routine.
Heavy chains
weigh me down.

"I'm a Christian"
I say,
"Jesus is great"
I remind.
If only
I could remember
to trust Him.

My Father steps in
"Give me your shame"
A weight lifted.
A river of love consumes me.

He cuts the tightrope,
and I fall into His fervent arms,
Free.