I’m worn from the pain of the existence I lead:
I’m dying to find something to live for.
My heart breaks from the ache of all my mistakes,
And I can’t stand alone anymore.
I’m sick of the lies that I’m constantly telling,
And I hate the excuses I make.
The same endless lies, again and again,
Leaves me hating each breath that I take.
I’m on my way home, and I’ve said this before,
But “this time it’s different,” I swear.
“This time I mean it; this time it’s for real,”
I say with my eyes full of tears.
I’m stumbling home, crawling hand over hand,
When I trip over unexpected hope:
He’s there, He’s still there, and He’s running to me,
Calling my name as He goes.
He’s waited for me and watched every day,
Waited for me to come home.
He guided my steps and guarded me all the way
Back to the place I belong.
He loves me still, in my dirt and my rags;
He embraces me and helps me to stand.
He stands back and looks at me, covered in filth,
And silently offers His hand.
As I cry out, “Forgive me; I’m so sorry I left,”
He says, “Child, I already have;
I know you came back to beg at My feet,
But in truth, I already forgave.”
My heart sighed aloud in broken relief
As my Father erased all the pain.
He accepted me back and did more than I’d hoped,
Extending His full love again.
I found out that day that it’s never too late
To run home to His scarred, open hands.
He watches and waits for His fallen, wayward sons
And helps us again to stand.
Andrew Miller on Lamentations 3:22-26 e2house on Darkness Steven Colborne on Darkness e2house on Remember e2house on Remember
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