this much i am beginning to learn:

i have perhaps never loved a day in my life.

or, maybe slightly more accurate,

and perhaps a bit generous as well,

there probably haven't been more than ten people

i have loved in a fashion worthy of is name.

and, from this realization comes another,

i have no idea who he really his,

or what love looks like at all.

you. you. you. you. you.

more. more. more. more.

YHWH.

less. less. less. less.

me. me. me. me. me.

pure heart. clean hands.

pure heart. clean hands.

Joshua.

simple heart prayers.

grace.

I've got six minutes to write.

and then i must get up and keep going.

going, going.

i wonder, this morning,

how peter, james, and john

felt sitting at the bottom of the mountain,

bewildered,

as their beloved wept on top of the mountain,

in agony.

i wonder if they were ashamed of their ignorance.

i wonder other things too:

how long did it take for the woman behind the line

to break her promise,

"go and sin no more?"

how many minutes from his kind eyes

to her next relapse into the

life she taught herself

by routine and such steady practice:

five husbands and a couple of lovers.

i wonder these things as my eyes

well up with tears thinking that

his mercies are new every morning,

that his kindness leads me to repentance,

that I have taught myself rebellion for twenty-two long years,

and now I am tired.

and now I see grace in submission,

so much so that I would wear a scarf on my head

if it would beckon you to come faster.

if it would woo you into my heart

to replace my cavities with gold.

so lovesick, am i, that I might just do anything you asked me to.

though your simple request to

go and sin no more

seems more impossible than all the rest.

and for this, i pray grace.

"Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long"

at the end you run towards me.

i remember the first time your foot touched my foot.

you place yours upon mine so gently,

as though you didn't mean to,

though you tapped to a rhythm so very gently.

as if to remind me that you were there and i was near you.

the reminder served me well.

it was, perhaps, the first time

that i thought you could be a man

and i could be a woman.

by the end i knew what kind of a man you were

and what kind of woman i had become.

and now there are times

when i wake up with anxious fretful breaths.

i was running towards you and away from you.

passing, as quick as i could in front of you,

yet, afraid.

you pay no mind.

she put it into simple words,

i was as if i was leaving and wanted you to notice,

to be upset,

even to say goodbye.

and today i was in california ontop of a mountain

and he whispered,

at the end you run towards me.

i am waiting.

you keep telling me this is good.

it is good for me to wait.

as long as you wait with me,

i will wait.

even for you, my Lord,

even for you I will wait.

(but, if heaven tastes anything like your presence, take me there now.)

jesus loves paris and paris will love jesus again!

jesus is a faithful lover and paris is another israel who will return to her groom!

jesus is a faithful lover who has not abandoned his bride! he has not abandoned his city!

jesus is the light and he belongs in the city of lights!

this is what i spend my time believing for.

his love is not so weak, he is not too weak for paris.

paris,

you are still so deep in my heart, i cannot get you out.

named by you

i cry out in whispers,

carve out space inside of my heart.

in the moldy and rotten caverns,

in the dark places stained

with bitter memories and

so much remorse and so much anger,

in the places of shame that

covered me with impurities

leaving me to question

whether or not they chose the wrong name

twenty two years ago,

in the feeling of hands where they do not belong

that come back in the phantom nerves

i cannot seem to forget.

carve out those dark places,

and clothe me in your holiness.

and i will look like your daughter.

and i will walk, named by you,

pure and innocent,

katherine.

a sinner's anxious prayer.

this isn't about doing more,

acting more good.

this is about i am sick with sin

and i need you to rip out my heart

and give me your gold one

so i can be well.

so i can be healthy.

i am sick with sin and your gold heart is the only antidote.

(and come quick! i am wreaking havoc and i do not know how to stop. i do not even know how to repent. i only know how to ask so weak please give me a new gold heart and a new bone spine to walk like you do. to love like you do. my fingers and my toes have walked away even all the while my eyes were longing for you.)

i count it a failure, how few times i kissed you.

all the while, it was all that i could think of.

if only your fingers and toes could follow your speech around.

what a man they'd make out of you, all headed in the same direction.