“How it saddens Me to watch you sow seeds in darkness,
That grow and bloom with much toil, only to bring forth rotten fruits.
I watch with chagrin, held back by a covenant I swore by Myself
Because of a sweet-smelling sacrifice offered by a choice servant,
From judging in wrath with a deluge – suffocating every eyesore
And completely removing the stubborn root of my heartaches.
“Alas, the choice was made –
Irrevocable by the edicts of free-will.
Though it broke My heart many times over,
I watched as you left, dejected yet prideful;
Such pride as is borne of ignorance and presumptuousness.
I witnessed the corruption of perfections once more;
Took in at a glance the full extent of the cracks and flaws
Skillfully injected into My impeccable design.
“We’ve come full circle, haven’t we?
In the beginning you were Mine, and I loved you.
I adored and pampered you; you had My presence,
Saw My face, heard My voice. I spoke to you
Among the trees like one to his beloved,
With whispers, and caresses, and warnings;
You were lovely, and innocent and glorious;
You made Me smile, because I looked at what I had made,
And knew it was good; Without blemish, not lacking
In purpose or power, in beauty or wisdom, in love or grace.
You were My delight, My treasure, My pleasure.
My name is Grace, Amazing Grace, we haven’t been introduced yet.
It’s a pleasure to meet you. Give me a minute or two, will you?
I’ve got a pitch prepared, but more than that, I’ve got reviews.
I’m in the business of transformations – total makeovers;
From ashes to beauty, from pauper’s rags to royal robes;
From death to life, anxiety to peace, hunger to satisfaction.
I take what has been discarded, forgotten, condemned, destroyed;
I remember to dust off, pardon, restore, comfort, assure, protect.
I preserve what is mine, and seek for more to make mine and pamper.
“I have loved thee with an everlasting love,
And I have stretched thy boundaries,
Even as I have stretched the heavens,
Wheresoever the soles of thy feet toucheth…
I have blessed, and who curseth?
Art there divinations and enchantments that do counter Mine words?
Will Mine ears hearken unto the calls that plead thy downfall;
Or will I smite in sore anger Mine tabernacle of Grace?
To err on the side of love is to be acquainted with pain;
It is akin to the fate of the moth – enthralled by flames
Of compassion, empathy, kindness, patience, humility.
To err on the side of love is to realize
That you do your fair share of dishing out hurt,
Angst, apathy, ire, discord, heart-break, doubt;-
Usually inadvertently, but harmful nonetheless.
There are those whose stories
Are etched on their bodies;
It’s in every untimely wrinkle,
Each inexplicably heavy sigh;
The weight of each step,
The unconscious stoop,
The wary glance,
The weary countenance,
The shallow smile.