Sweet Jesus

((11:59 a.m))

Jesus.

Sweet Jesus.

This is my prayer.

This is my plea.

Will you please, oh will you please hold onto me?
Because I have no strength left.

I feel like I have nothing more to give.

Sometimes I feel like I can't take one more step.

I tell myself, “keep going. You are a fighter.”

But what happens when you have no more strength to fight?

I'm craving you because they tell me that you can heal.

I want to run after you and yet I have no more strength to run.

So I am crawling.

I am clawing the ground, dragging my bruised body up the hill that leads up to your cross.

But I refuse to give up because I want you more than anything.

Because you are the only one who makes life worth living.

I will run after you.

And if I cannot run, I will walk.

And if I cannot walk, I will crawl.

And if I cannot crawl, then I will drag my body.

But Jesus.

Sweet Jesus.

No matter what it takes, I will not give up.

Because you tell me that when I draw near to you, you will draw near to me.

You tell me that you strengthen the weary and give power to the weak.

You tell me that when I am weak, you are strong.

That is a promise I am staking my life on.

That is a promise I will run after.

And if I cannot run, I will crawl.

Oh and Jesus? Sweet Jesus, I have nothing to offer you.

Nothing but my broken, weary heart.

Nothing but my false Christianity

Nothing but my hypocrisy.

Nothing but my lies and deceit.

Nothing but my endless burdens.

As I drag my body up to the foot of your cross, I hold my breath.

For what will I find at the cross?
Condemnation for my hypocrisy and false Christianity?

I hang my head, shame filling me.

But at your blood stained, beautiful cross, I find rest for my soul.

I find freedom. I find love. A love that cannot be measured.

It is there that I leave my false Christianity, my heavy heart, my hypocrisy, and burdens.

And it is there I ask you. No. I cry out. I scream with every ounce of strength in my weary body. I beg.

Begging that you will take this life of shambles and make something beautiful.

Begging that you will touch my life.

Begging that you will see through my hypocrisy and love me the same.

And Jesus.

Sweet Jesus.

Will you hold me close to your heart? So closely that I can hear your heart beat?

So close that I can hear you when you shout and so close I can hear you when you whisper?

Dearest Lover of my soul, I have little to offer such a worthy King. I have brokenness and burdens. I have pain and problems. I have frustrations and facades. But you want it all. You don't just want the perfect, the beautiful, the right answers, the smiles, the whole.

Because how can you heal something that doesn't need healing?
How can you make something whole that is not broken?
How can you make something beautiful if it is not ugly?

I am leaving it all. All at the cross. How great, dear Lover, is your love for me. Love is not something you do. Love is your name. Love is who you are.

So I am running after you.

And if I cannot run...

I will crawl.