Let weeds and wheat grow together until the harvest….
God, I meant to be a good person;
I wanted to produce wisdom and justice.
How is it I am so compromised?
There is goodness and mercy in me,
and there is selfishness and fear,
privilege that serves only my fake desires.
I’ve been asleep! I missed it,
when my ego crept in
and sowed all this junk in me.
I want to march through the field of my life
and tear out all the weeds.
I want to be better. Now.
But, look how harsh I am, judging myself.
My hands are full not of the fruit of love
but shame and a scythe.
Some of me that I am disappointed in
hides your blessing, wheat among the weeds.
Only you know the true fruits I bear.
I set aside my weapons.
I let go of accusing myself.
I accept myself as I am, weeds and wheat.
I trust you to glean the grain from my field
and remove the rest—
gone, cleansed, burned forever!
May my peace and acceptance
be the seeds I sow
for the next harvest.
July 17, 2020