Your Heart Breaks with Mine

 A rage in my soul flows As recollections of past Sins committed remain Unavenged, in my mind. Even an apology Would be a sufficient substitute As an ointment for healing. But therein lies the haunting: No words uttered Of such intention.

Talk of forgiveness -
What a concept!
How glorious the news,
Greater the obstacle
To practice its effect.
And You dare me
To give this gift
To one so undeserving!
Have You forgotten
What wounds wars have waged
Upon my soul?!

No.
You have not.

However,
What comfort can I claim
When nothing has changed,
Hope lost its reward
And the scars stay the same?
Perhaps the only consolation
I have: Your heart
Broke along with mine.
As shame filled the shadows,
My tears were joined with Yours
In the silence.
You did not abandon me
In my sorrow.
But what do I have to show?
Within the moment of a memory
Or a trigger of a word,
I remember I am not not whole.
Their betrayal is the key
To my chains.

Nevertheless,
Can You ask for too much?
Refrain from asking
For reconciliation.
Please.  At least, for now.
Forgiveness I bear
From a distance.
But to ask me to break down
A wall built to protect my soul -
It is too much.
I know not if their entrance
Would only further enable the abuse
I have had to endure.
Yet, in admitting this secret,
Can I become content
For salvation to have its cumulation
In eternity?

Ha!
I’m sure You can count the times
I refused repentance;
Ran away from the wrongs
I was due to pay a debt.
Yet, You desired Your grace
Be poured upon my head
In the hour of an
Appointed execution.

You desire the same
For them.
As my heart demands
Justice to make its amends,
Petitioning Your wrath to have its way,
You beg of me to pray
For Your blessing to rain
Mercy upon their soul;
To seek Your grace
Not for my sake, but for their own.
How bold of You
To challenge my heart
To give of myself
That which was withheld from me!

But You gave it
To me first
Before
They had a chance
To rip it from my hands.
Your love explicitly clear:
A bloodied post with nails
To mark its infinite edges.
A faith eternally empowering a change
That no human could muster.
A hope for a future that will not repeat
The pains of the past.
Do I dare state
It is impossible?
Or worse -
Do I boldly claim
That Your redemption is limited
Upon my determination
Whose soul is worthy and capable
Of change?

Oh Jesus,
How do I heal
When acknowledgment for sins
Continues to obscure admittance?
How do I let go of my need
To prey upon
The reputation of an offender,
Jaded by their own righteousness?
My comfort was Your empathy,
But my freedom lies in wishing
Your best for the closest of my enemies.

You are good and do good.
That includes Your heart for me,
As well as for the ones
I have learned to hate.
No matter how justified
I believed I was;
You have ALWAYS desired
That none would perish.
And that includes the ones
I cannot stand.
Be the change in my soul
You want to see;
Because if You could do it in me,
Who can say it is impossible
For redemption to have its perfect work
In the worst of my allies?

You Say We Family

Welcomed into your home,
Called me as one of your own;
But in time, I found myself
Some growth,
But also alone.
Perhaps, you had your ways,
However, the wounds of my past
Haunted my heart to beg for more.
You never got the memo;
But I also never said a word.
Personally reminded to never be a burden,
I read body language,
Interpreting rightfully or wrongly
When I was truly invited.
So, I kept to myself,
Wishing to belong
In such a way
That was forgotten
In my home growing up.

"We are family,"
I hear you say to our congregation.
And yet, I must ask,
"What does that even mean?"
You may have a specific picture,
But I promise you
There are people filled with brokenness, 
Waiting for you to fill their needs
Legitimately or illegitimately.
They may not accept anything less
Than what expectations they place
Upon your heads.

What does it mean to be family
In the Church?
How do we build relationship,
Extend friendships beyond
Our comfort circles?
What is appropriate
Within the context of our culture
And the defined limits of our lives?
On one hand, we cannot become
Isolationist; only extending
When it is convenient for us.
But we also can't let our hearts bleed out;
Bending backwards even beyond
Our capabilities or what God intends.

Biblically speaking,
What is a healthy Church family:
In its plausibility,
Connectivity,
Possibility,
In its responsibility;
And what is it not?
I promise you
If this is only named as an intention,
But never discussed on its practicality,
Wounds will be expounded
Upon which others had conducted
Damage.
Carnage created in the name of "family",
Accidently attributed to Jesus,
Will further the heartbreak
In which He intends to heal.

So, what is the answer?
I understand we all have our limits
In spite of others'
Needs and/or desires.
But on some level,
I wonder if we all must ask,
"At what point have I used my limits
As a means to excuse myself
From even the smallest extension
Of Jesus to another person?"

I am not asking for you
To become overly busy.
I am addressing the present
Culture of our church,
As a whole.
We are too small 
To be so damn cliquish.
And we come empty
Hoping others, besides
Our Father, fill our cups.

But have you noticed
That when someone disappears,
We gradually forget
To say their name -
Include them in our prayers?
We may not even bless their going out
If their absence is due to an offense
Or feeling like they fit elsewhere.
Is it too much to ask
That if someone comes to mind,
A simple text of, "How are you,"
Is all that is needed?
Or do we cut our losses,
Because it is easier to deal with
Our conscience?

And for me, 
That is of grave concern.
Even in the context of ministry,
Your children are held in positions 
Of leadership which they carry
Little influence;
For how much do they know of those
Whom they are leading?
They stay in their corner until showtime.

You want to encourage people's gifts
But wait for them
To present their offering; and even then,
The intention is shifted in how it can fit
Into your vision, or specifically,
How it fits in the church
Rather than in the Church.

You profess a desire
To become as a neighbor,
But join in activities
When others had the initial set up.
When have you been in the neighborhood,
As is, meeting the faces of whom
You want to minister?
Or do you claim you are part of the hood,
Because you bring others in?
Trust me, inviting outsiders 
For a momentary stay
Only goes a little way.
There still remains 
A division between your intention
And your application.

I don't know what the answer is.
Even in my own writing,
Am I only projecting my personal hurts;
Requiring you to carry the responsibility
Solely? I desire no such thing.
But I think there must be discussion
In the midst of criticisms.
I know I can't be the only one
Who has seen the imperfections
Of this home.
There remains a bridge
Yet to be crossed;
Besides in the name and blood of Jesus
We are related,
But I don't know if we can honestly say
We are family.