Jan 2017
People often ask me how I can love the one thing that broke me. They ask me how I can touch a burning stove, watch my hand swell up and then touch it again. They ask me how I can return to my *****. As if someone else will clean it up.
When I was 4 years old, I ate an entire box of thin mints. It was fully intended and I definitely did not apologize when my dad found the remains of his favorite cookie all over my face but he forgave me anyway.
In sixth grade, I ran away from home. When my mom figured out my elaborate plan of going to my friends house, three blocks away, there was quite a bit of yelling. I spent the next two weeks confined by the walls of my bedroom and when I was finally allowed out, she gave me a hug.
People ask me how I can look into the devils eyes and tell him that he's forgiven but I can't mistake the tilt of their heads when they say this
They forget that they too, are sinners.
They forget that dark cannot drive out dark, that a buried hatchet does no good if there's a marker above it.
They forget about the knives caught in their spines twisted just enough to hold their pride up, they can't see that it would feel so much better to just take it out. Clean off the blade and then bury it too. There's no point in hoarding stones when you don't have the right to throw them so you might as well give him some too. Watch him rub them together and wait for the first flame while you get yours ready. But when you find that you're the only one with burnt palms, you're going to realize that just because the stove was hot last time you touched it, doesn't mean it's hot now.
When I was 4 years old, I ate an entire box of thin mints. It was fully intended and I definitely did not apologize when my dad found the remains of his favorite cookie all over my face but he forgave me anyway.
In sixth grade, I ran away from home. When my mom figured out my elaborate plan of going to my friends house, three blocks away, there was quite a bit of yelling. I spent the next two weeks confined by the walls of my bedroom and when I was finally allowed out, she gave me a hug.
People ask me how I can look into the devils eyes and tell him that he's forgiven but I can't mistake the tilt of their heads when they say this
They forget that they too, are sinners.
They forget that dark cannot drive out dark, that a buried hatchet does no good if there's a marker above it.
They forget about the knives caught in their spines twisted just enough to hold their pride up, they can't see that it would feel so much better to just take it out. Clean off the blade and then bury it too. There's no point in hoarding stones when you don't have the right to throw them so you might as well give him some too. Watch him rub them together and wait for the first flame while you get yours ready. But when you find that you're the only one with burnt palms, you're going to realize that just because the stove was hot last time you touched it, doesn't mean it's hot now.
