Beloved Daughter

I failed you again. 

The old sin crept in like a shadow, and I,

weak, foolish, wretched as I am,

gave in. 

I kept the door closed, denying Your nearness, 

while I painted myself with guilt and shame, 

drab colours for a drab soul. 

And all the while, there was a still, small voice at the window saying,

“You are my Beloved Daughter.” 

I couldn’t believe. 

And I couldn’t sleep. 

 

I failed You again! 

On the mountain, at the summit, 

belief was breathing, and faith was seeing. 

I had no sorrow great enough to eclipse Your love. 

But, here in my valley, the pain shakes me to the ground.

I turn my back on the Son, 

undone by grief. 

And yet there’s a strong patient hand and that still, small voice reaching out. 

“You are my Beloved Daughter. 

In you I am well pleased.” 

But I can’t believe. 

And I can’t sleep. 

 

I failed you again, 

and I am so very tired. 

How quickly these buried fears rise up to choke me, 

and I fall to their voices, defeated and scared. 

Is there relief? 

Let me do something to prove my worth!

Let me make some sacrifice! 

Ask me anything and I will do it. 

I will. 

A window is thrown open, a hand clasps mine, and a voice of love drowns out the rest. 

“You are my Beloved Daughter.

In You I am well pleased.” 

I believe. 

And there is rest with Him who is well pleased. 

 

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