I’m not claustrophobic,
But my fear makes me feel like I’m trapped in a box buried 490 feet under Your toes.
I don’t like to let people down,
But it’s hard trying to get things done while battling fear, even if I’m doing those things for You.
To be alive is a scary thing to be sometimes,
But I believe You when You say that You’ll help.
I know of one place where I can be safe, and that’s with You,
But it takes some work to get there.
I know You’re there, You’re practically standing right next to me,
But my head puts up walls, walls made out of fear.
Fear of responsibility, fear of change, fear of the future, of pain and disappointment, of failure and shame and decisions.
And those are just the walls I put up.
There are also the flaws of the world.
They add more walls, and these walls are made out of more than just fear,
But no matter how many walls there are, I can always see a little of You, because the walls are transparent.
They’re made of cracked glass, in different colors and thicknesses, some more damaged than others, and they’re easy enough to break down,
But sometimes I don’t want them down.
Sometimes the cracks in the glass make You look like someone I don’t want to get to,
But all I have to do is look past those cracks and get one clear glance at You,
And I’ll remember that You’re all I’m ever going to need.
When I first met You, I saw you through the cracks, and I swore to never let go,
But I lost sight of You and loosened my grip.
Years later when we met again, face to face, there were no walls. You had taken them down.
You told me You were proud of me regardless of what I’ve done to myself and others.
After seeing You so clearly, without fear or flaws, how could I ever forget You?
I think that was the only time I’ve ever been without fear.