The one that got away:aka the one I didn't REALLY wanna publish

Rarely do I allow my posts to shed even a sliver of light to the very depth of my being. Why? Because I'm scared. Of what? You. I'm scared of you and what you'll think after you read it. Im scared that by the end (or even before the end) you'll have already decided to never read another word I write. You'll have already decided that "ok, this one...I'm not entirely sure about." a few times I've gone there. And those times too I was scared of judgement. But now I know...the thing that people really want these days out of other people...is authenticity. So I share the truth. The realness. Jesus saved me. And I would be remissed to not share at least that. God is the one I model. Or try to...and I'm human. So I know I've failed. But His grace never does. His love never fails. So now, really for the first time ever, I share the whole me. The one that is lead by God and loved by God. (hey. So are you)

In the early morning hours, You are there. When the sun still sleeps...You're there and awake. You never tire. You never sleep. Whether the moon is full or a sliver in the darkest of skies, You are there. When I'm asleep or afar...You never are. God. There's only 1. You didn't complicate that. But I do. As I've wandered aimlessly in my own wilderness, You were always my compass, gently guiding me back home. Never truly knowing what I was looking for, I secretly hoped I would find You. But I was never lost. Only searching. My knees feel weak at the thought of Your sacrifice, Your second chance for me to be free. My heart aches with heaviness as I conclude Your love really does permeate to the very depths of the hidden parts of my wounded heart. My weathered soul. My head falls heavy on my shoulders as I realize there's nothing I've ever done or will do that would cause You to turn away Your face. My arms feel like bench presses when they are lifted in surrender. Dependent upon Your grace. Finally. And perfectly. I am a dependent.