I woke up wanting not

rush Your arms away,

holding onto my shivering body

under white blankets colored snow.

Outside temperature almost

matching this throw.

I turn over, reading promising truth

I can’t let go: Your grace surpasses

my own. Your power works best

inside my step-step-pause motions

I am weak to better see Your smile

through a woman I hardly know.

She speaks with lilt upon each finger

stroke, painting pictures only Love

colors with first grace. I cry reading

how her daughter has lost belief,

watching her bones break,

many diagnoses she never asked

receive. Many years, I have doubted

depth of a Father’s love could go to

death for a crippled frame as mine.

One day, He found me in the middle

of a sleepless night on my best

friend’s floor, swaddled in a sleeping

bag, whispering: I forgive you,

I forgive you, I forgive you. For…