Walking a mile

Sweating and trembling, my tear filled eyes peer from the place of my retreat into the darkness of the trees.

I struggle to sync my vision with the sounds of your pursuit.

As the warmth of your presence replaces the silence in the air, it mingles with the sinful breath that I exude.

You call to me. I am too ashamed. I then hear you speak with an authority I long for.

Against my wishes, I feel myself begin to ascend.

I stand before you in my filthy rags. Head hung. Feeling unworthy to seek your face.

Your words are condemning.
My body grows weaker.
Strangely, deep in my soul I still experience your good.

I mourn my fate, as I reflect on cool evenings.
I am plucked from your perfect place and enter the world.

Lord, I long to return to that place in our friendship,
but look forward to seeing the place you've prepared.

-KW