Sunday, November 2, 2008

The Well

You met me at the well
And You knew when I grabbed the hem of your garment
You put down Your stone

You met me at the well again
And never once did condemnation cross Your face
No matter how little I deserved
You gave me everything

But last time I did not go back to the well
Because the well had seen too many of my tears
And I did not deserve to touch anything on Your body
Shame from the inside out took away a gift that you so desperately wanted to give me

And still today tears never run dry in my eyes
Because there has never been gratitude felt the way that it runs through my bones
The way that I’ve found myself face down on the ground
Because there was no where in the world for a sinner to stand

The way that You took my hand and helped me up
How You loved me when I refused to love myself
And time after time I ran into a brick wall and You refused to throw a stone

It’s the humiliation that only we knew
To know I was nothing better than a prostitute who never got paid
It’s the way that You looked in my eyes
And for the first time since as far back as I can remember
Someone really looked at me

Just me

Knowing every sin I carried
Knowing the fear in my heart
And the hatred in my soul

And You never looked at me any differently
As if I were clean

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