Score |
298
Today is Sunday but...🌼
<p>Today is Sunday but we iron our prayers, </p><p>fold them neat into hymns,</p><p>wear smiles like sneakers that have never touched mud. </p><p><br/></p><p>But when we pray, it feels like just words<br/></p><p>and our faith becomes so small</p><p>like a mustard seed we keep losing in our pockets.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then, tomorrow is Monday<br/></p><p>and the mud finds us anyway.</p><p><br/></p><p>In the traffic, <br/></p><p>In the "I don't know if I believe this anymore",</p><p>In the 3am thoughts that don't make it to the altar. </p><p><br/></p><p>So let's stop pretending the mud isn't there. <br/></p><p>Let's bring the dirty shoes to Jesus,</p><p>let's let Him see the the days our faith feels small, </p><p>and the cracks in our "I'm fine"</p><p><br/></p><p>Because He never asked for Sunday-best.<br/></p><p>He asked for us. </p><p><br/></p><p>All the messy honest, laughing, crying, healing versions of us. </p><p><br/></p><p>So today, <br/></p><p>Maybe realising we have Jesus whom we can be vulnerable to is enough,</p><p>maybe leaving our Sunday-best version of us behind is okay, </p><p>maybe letting go of our 3am thoughts to the altar is enough,</p><p>maybe showing up messy is the offering.</p><p><br/></p><p>So let's not bring our best,<br/></p><p>let's bring us. </p><p><br/></p><p>The honest, vulnerable, tired and trying "us"</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>©Goke's pen</p><p>~TheHealingPoet.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p>
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