In a season of confession, I discovered a bit of poetry embedded in a journaled prayer. I share it here, thankful for the cleansing the Holy Spirit is working in my life these days. Confession and repentance are good things.
Make Me.
I am undone by you, Jesus.
Exposed.
I am judgment. I am opinion. I am condemnation and criticism.
I am chaos and I am confusion.
I am selfish, small minded, false in every way. I am impure motives.
I am lost.
I am a woman of unclean lips and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.
And now I am undone, my insides are spilling out.
I am control. I am manipulation. I am soul-sickness.
I am veneer. I am empty of identity and full of posturing.
I do not know how to be still.
Repent me, for I cannot repent myself.
I cannot turn myself around, as if this is a child’s game.
This change is not my choice.
Repent me. Turn me. Change me. Make me new. Make all things new.
Be still, my soul. And know.
