Just Jul Lee

mONkey

mONkey a.k.a Worthless?
DATE: December 30, 2004

I'm laying in the gutter again. I walked out of the palace and flung myself into the filth. Why not? It's so familiar. You can't make a begger into a princess. I don't belong in those safe walls, I don't deserve His love.

But, even lying here in the filth, I see Him approach, love in His eyes. I can't bear to look. His love is so perfect, unfailing, as He stares at me with mercy. I feel the filth even greater now, can smell the stench, so horrid and rank. Why did I return yet again?

He reaches out His hand to help me up but I still feel filthy as I stand beside Him. What destiny, Lord, could You possibly have for me? I've failed again, returned to the dung You cleansed me from.

Earlier, laying in the filth, I had tried to deny His calling once again, tried to escape the guilt of failing by releasing my trust in Him.

"It's not my destiny, Lord, I know it's not. I'm not pure, I'm not meant to marry. A pastor's wife, how lofty of me to imagine such a calling."

Silence.

"I don't believe-Why do You spare me? I have no destiny-Wait, I know that everyone has a destiny in You but I don't believe-"

I begin to hyperventilate, something that only happens to me when I deny God openly and foolishly. I stop at last and cry.

"I'm sorry. So sorry."

But what does it matter? I stand beside Him now and mourn. I don't believe in love, I realize. I believe in His love, unending and unfailing, but mortal love...I just can't believe.

"God, I'm filthy. I'm not pure. Don't You see that I'm not going to be a wife? I'm never going to reach my destiny."

But He doesn't answer right away. He tells me softly to understand that He's not like us, like me, that He already forgave me when I asked and I don't need to keep apologizing, begging.

I don't listen.

"Yes, yes, my King, my Father, I know of Your mercy, unending, and Your love, unfailing, but I feel so bad, so foolish and filthy."

Guilt holds me in its throes and I feel depression dragging my spirit ever downward. Thoughts of death and isolation occupy my mind. I feel so unworthy, so worthless.

We are all unworthy and He still sent His Son to die for us, for me, He still comes to us in the filth we opt to wallow in. He forgives us when we ask and washes us off again with patient, loving hands. The garment is placed around us, fresh and clean, and He leads us, once more, into the safety of His palace walls.

"Please, Lord, don't let there be a next time. Please, help me."

But the doors are open, for He does not bar us in. The filth calls and I look at Him again. "Oh, Lord God, I'm so sorry."

He loves me, He forgives me and though I am only worthy of Hell, He makes me His daughter, talks to me, loves me, comforts me and protects me.

I'm not perfect but He is. I trust Him. So, I say now, "Yes, Father. Forgive my doubt and sin, I am Yours. I will follow You. When I fail, when I fall, I will rise up again and seek You. I will call upon You when I feel weak and I will walk with You everyday, just to know You more, just to be with You. Praise and glory to You, Father. I love You."

And I do. More than anything, I love You. I am Yours.