Grace and Peace to you.
I will pour water on the thirsty land,
and streams on the dry ground;
I will pour my spirit upon your descendants,
and my blessing on your offspring.
They shall spring up like a green tamarisk,
like willows by flowing streams.
—Isaiah 44. 3-4
Dark and early in your story
someone fearful of your inborn glory
buried it behind your house, and you,
innocently, and wise to save yourself
from their greater wrath,
believed its absence.
It’s not a pompous glory, ostentatious
or insistent on regard, but sure and quiet
as a wildflower’s, asking nothing.
And so you’ve lived—so have we all—
without it, your heart shoveled over
with self-doubt and apology, as if
you have no place or voice here
We see you in the cripples who flocked
to Jesus, the mute, the paralyzed,
bent over, shut out, gone mad.
And all he meant to say was this:
you shine. You bring a gift
as no one else, and you belong.
Your Word deserves a hearing,
and this world needs your beauty
and your grace. There is no rank
you fall below, no worth you fail to match.
You shuttering was evil, and God
wants it undone, and wants you whole.
And so she takes you by the hand
and raises you to stand, to walk, to speak.
She listens to your song with joy.
She rains upon the earth
until you are unafraid of your radiance
and all our houses are surrounded by wildflowers.
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes