Today I sent an email too quickly, and it had a mistake in it.
And to me… it was temporarily the end of the world.
“How could I have done that?” I lamented.
“Why didn’t I double check?” I admonished myself.
It’s been a week (a lifetime really) of 98% right and 2% wrong where the 2% dominates ALL my attention and ALL my self-talk.
Does this resonate with anyone?
If it does, this poem is for you:
Why is it, Lord,
that I can make
98 right moves
and yet allow the
2 missteps I make
consume me?
Why is it, Lord,
that I can be
my own
worst critic
highlighting only
the messiest parts
of me?
Why is it, Lord,
that I can’t see myself
as you see me:
original, worthy,
magnificently capable,
and so FULL of light?
Is it a lack of faith?
Is it a lack of effort?
Is it a lack of love?
Is it…
a lack?
Still, no matter how
I speak to myself,
you never fail to shout
all the louder:
“You ARE enough,
You ARE loved,
You ARE chosen.”
Help me, Lord,
to hear your shouts
above all
the nasty,
worst messages
that echo incessantly
in my head.
Help me, Lord,
to let your heartfelt words
of love and truth
drown out the rest
and become
my battle cry.
