by Marcie Bridges, @Marcie_Bridges

Maybe if I buy a bottle of ink and dye my hair you won’t see me for who I really am.

Maybe if I obscure my message within words that need definition to understand among the letters, you won’t pay attention to my pain.

If I stand before you, a smaller slightly different version of myself, smiling, nodding, you won’t see my need.

Could it be that I am really that naive?

Sometimes hiding, pretending, playing hide-and-seek and make-believe is the only way I know how to live.

And you? Do you play these games too?

But bottles of ink and obscurity of words do not make a life worth living.

It’s in the raw honesty in the deepest part we find our strength. Shedding light on the darkness that permeates. Hiding, lurking in those sacred, holy shadows is the truth that will set me free.

And where the light of Jesus shines, the death of me lives. Deeply. Immensely. Invasively. Purely. Holy. A reminder that He is still here and still God. Reminding me of the unholy I really am but that His deep, red, life-giving blood has forgiven that unholy and made it precious.

Remind Me Lord…

Remind me Lord

of Who You are
in the joy and sorrow
in the pain and rain
of the goodness, grace, mercy
faithfully magnifying Your name.

Remind me Lord
of the sacred holy,
and even the hard,
where Your sacrifice
pours through every part.
I know You cried tears
sands of grain nor stars count
as You stretched Your arms wide out.
You hold universes in Your hands
but I am not a speck…

Remind me Lord
of Who You are
so I can always remember
who I am
in You.

~Marcell Warner Bridges
©28 August 2016
All Rights Reserved.