Saturday, May 7, 2022

Faint of Heart

I felt it like the wave-crash of thunder more than I heard it: worthiness is not vanity. 

It took its time in coming to me, a long drawn out delay between sight and sound. The coming as heavy as air before the storm, the arrival unruly as first sheets of rain. Poured from the cupped hands of heaven on the evil and the good. 

All the things withheld by people too small to recognize their sins. Too vain to see their own worth. Withheld from me because I am or am not __________. Fill in your blanks. 

Worthiness smells like vanity to those who deny their own worth. Walking in the other-world of worthiness, sunlight touches upon all the ways you've been robbed. For a while, it sets everything ablaze, the hunger for fullness. For a while, a crying in my quietest places. Then lightning strikes: no hunger, no robbery, no fire, no sorrow, and no vanity unshake the worthiness born in you. 

Purple Iris by Dave Mills 

a woman on mother's day when roe v wade died. a lightning strike pulled from Robert Jones Jr.'s The Prophets. 

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