What love is this?
That reaches into weakness
and speaks to me in deafness
When I was far away, even an enemy
Fresh light broke through
penetrating the darkest parts.
And still I sit here
alone in my self-pity
helplessly hoping for the acquittal
that only caresses those at the foot
of a Roman cross.
Breaking out of myself requires
repenting of staleness and realizing
the liquid love of Spirit-wrought affections
that have already been poured into my heart.
Slowly I am learning to forget myself.
I am becoming like Christ.
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