Bruised and Unbroken

A bruised reed,

I linger in the shadows.

Flickering wick smothering from lack of air,

I desperately preserve a waning light.

Distrustful of your outlandish claims,

I shift my weight from side to side,

my heart teetering in rhythm with my tottering weight.

All-powerful?  All-sufficient? Loving?  Faithful?

I cannot risk the let down of destroyed hope.

I cannot let you in as Parent.

And still….

You draw my negative push with your positive magnetism

and transform my repulsion into yearning.

Your love robs me of excuses,

And your rest envelops like a cloak,

I venture ever so tentatively forward as a new identity beckons,

still unable to meet your unflinching gaze.

“I will not break you, nor will I let your ember die,”  You whisper.

No longer able to mold you into the image of another,

I lift my eyes to meet yours for the first time.

“Father.” 

(Inspired by Isaiah 42:3)