I raise up my hands to heaven
and say to God,
"Pick me up
Embrace me
Love me"
But then I shrink back
and I insist
that God must be hurt
by my exposed, broken shards

"I am not whole,
and not huggable
My pain is like thorns
that cut and inflict"
And so I look away with remorse

But God answers me
as only He can do, saying,
"Then we have a lot in common
Or did you forget the cross?
My Son on it?
Jesus, who was the most
broken of all"

I agree that I do...
I must!
But still...

"A nail in a hand
A wreath of thorns for a crown
He died quite damaged
for those like you
Yet was I not there to embrace Him
and welcome Him home?"

In spite of my tears, I reason
My mind and heart agree
So my Father and I embrace
and I accepted God's grace

After all