She hurt me; withdrew when I reached, said hard words to my soft, frowned when I smiled.



She hurt me;

 withdrew when

 I reached,

 said hard words to

 my soft,

 frowned when

 I smiled.


And so I nurse

 and coddle

 and sift

 the moments through

 my mind.

And lick the wounds she

 left behind.

And the bitter taste grows.


And even though time has passed

 my stomach knots at

 her presence,

My ears listening for words


 that will cut again.

I view her life through a

 broken lens

 of criticism

 and mistrust.


The rift grows,

 the bitter root sucking

 my life dry.



In a moment,

 reading my Bible,

 listening to Him,

 He speaks


 just for me.

A piercing Light

 cutting through,

 dividing heart and soul,

 exposing my


 of judgement,



Reminding me of

 my debt:




 than hers.

Reminding me of

 the cost.

That while I was still

 in debt,

 He died;

While still an enemy,

 opposed and


 He went.

Showing me the heavy load

 He bore on the


 for me.

I ask myself:

what am I

 willing to bear

 for her?


The smog of self-pity

 begins to clear.

I see the mountain

 I need to climb

 back to Him.

I have no rights

 to kind words,

 or fair treatment;

When I deserve

 only death

 and judgment,

 every breath is grace.

Every moment




 grieves the One

 who held out spotless hands

 for soiled me.

And the mountain is



 but He is with me.



So I lay down

 the use of my mind,

 the heavy burden.

And pour out the acrid water

 that has nourished the root

 at the foot of the cross,

 and drink from

 Living Water



I see her as I am,



 being refined.

I see His patience

 with my waywardness,

His kindness

 to my rudeness,

His strength

 in my weakness.

His wisdom

 to my foolishness,

His example

 to follow.


And so when I see her

 I move


 and not back.

And remind myself that


 comes not through

 destructive thoughts,

 or waved banners

 of self-righteousness,

 but in sacrifice,


 and brokenness.

In a cross taken up.


 my life,


 made whole,

 bought back

 at great cost

 to Him.

So I take His hand and

 step forward,

 bridging the rift between

 her and me

 with the cross.