Realizing Provision

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, guilty of dust and sin. {and guilty of thinking that I must be mistaken- he isn’t really inviting me, guilty of being invited before and then going on living the same insecure way, guilty of failing to open the invitation, and guilty of looking for different invitations because I didn’t understand this one}

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack from my first entrance in, drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning if I lacked anything.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here: {And worthy for you to still come ask me this when you’ve asked before, and reassured me before, and here I am still struggling to accept. And struggling to believe that You’ve made me worthy and that’s enough worthiness.}

Love said, You shall be he.

I the unkind, ungrateful? {the unfeeling, the self-focused, the insecure, the one who has received so much but still miserably fails to give, the perpetually guilt-ridden, the moody, the judgemental?} Ah my dear, I cannot look on Thee. {And even as I say that, I don’t have the feelings of penitence and the awe of Your holiness that I should}.

Love took my hand, {why does he still want to hold my hand?} and smiling {Why is his love still smiling at me?} did reply, Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marred them: {And even while I’m writing this, my motives are twisted and my love weak.} let my shame go where it doth deserve. {And I don’t even realize the extent of what my shame deserves.}

And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?

My dear, then I will serve. {That is what my response should be, but so often I’m not even willing to serve!}

You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:

So {not because my motives stopped being twisted, or because my penitence really was felt, but because I was banking everything on His love- the invitation I didn’t even understand} I did sit and eat.