Broken in the Light

In a dream once
I knew I was dreaming
so I ventured
from the storyline
and entered a cave.
Deep within
was a mirror
and I wanted to see myself,
what I was like
in this deep, inner place.
What I saw was twisted,
my body set in shadows,
and dry and wilting
like a plant,
head hanging down,
eyes empty and glazed.
I have seen him since,
in those moments
taken off guard
I let the mask slip.
I’ve spent my life avoiding him,
dressing up in the clothes
of better men,
wearing the words
of the healthy.
The secret I did not know,
all these years,
this broken, inner man
was the only one
who could approach the throne
of God.
Hidden in darkness
he was starved of life.
But these days he has begun
to surface,
the ice of pretension
melting and snapping off him
and he is at once terrible
and beautifully illumined
by the light that holds him.

(This poem is about being open and authentic before God. As long as we are wearing a mask or putting up a front, we don’t let anyone in, especially God. It’s about getting in touch with ourselves, especially our well-guarded inner scars and letting them come out into the light, so God can heal us. This is the spirit and real purpose of the Christian practice of confession in my opinion.)

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