They possess an elasticity of spirit, a heart like a ball of rubber bands.
My heart dents and bruises and beats in an unhealthy rhythm to the humdrum of life. I am small and I live a small life
Not unimportant, but small.
I don’t mind.
Because although some days my inadequacies eat me alive,
And there is always the insistence of my soul to be better today than I was yesterday, And His mirror is a broken one,
A confused sketch of Who I am supposed to reflect,
I am perfect.
I am complete.
Because He keeps me.
Because He loves me. How can I write a poem about myself When all I see is Him? The longer I stand in the presence of the Holy One, Almighty God, The deeper I understand what my life is. A little flicker of a flame extinguished quietly, Light, a small difference that I won’t discount, But I hope all they remember is His baffling resistance to my just collapse, And His bursting conflagration of untamable love.
Dear Reader,
Most of the blogs I write have been informational, or devotional. Forgive me if a short, free-verse poem that I began in high school is a disappointment. But somehow, the only words that I could use to describe the paradox between humility and confidence were written as a junior in high school, when the assignment was to compose a poem about myself. I was then at a point in my faith when I had receded into abject diffidence to my Creator. Now, as the halfway point of the World Race approaches, I have reached a new crossroad of understanding. So, I reworked the poem to reflect this. Yes, our lives on earth are vanity, our best performance is mere glitter and dust compared to the great golden expanse that is Christ’s holiness. But because of His sacrifice on the cross, I have been given the status of a child of God, and my work is finally valuable– now that it is done for Him and not myself. I meant what I said at the end of the poem. I hope that when I leave Romania, or the Race, or this Earth, that those I meet won’t remember me, but only what He did for me.
