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When Self-Contempt and Jesus Collide
"I came back for you."I hear you say it, your hand at the small of my back, your arms holding me. For years it was my Father's voice I recognized. Opening my imagination. Cracking open my heart. When I see me with him. When I hear his voice.But I didn't think I could hear yours. Or think I ever wanted to.
rescue from self-contempt
Her eyes are big, gentle and kind. Her music is beautiful, her fingers upon keys, her body dancing, her voice singing out. In her words, her glory--I glimpse the more that is here. But she tells me she doesn't see it. Her beauty. Her value.She is displaced, feeling separate from the exquisiteness of her own soul even while she creates beauty, and is loved, so loved, here.
Look up, my darling, look up.
When I hear Him, this space I’m in, at this plain wooden table, this window with the cobwebs at the corner of the metal screen, this soft rumble of washing machine, this smell of wet dog near my feet, I study the room, looking for clues for what is different.
All is different? No, all is the same.