Father, take me home

I stand at the door;

Hand outstretched,

Knuckles white and

Arms trembling.

I know I have to knock,

But I’m afraid of what

I will find on

The other side.

I was kind, right?

Compassionate to all?

I gave to the needy and lonesome!

I tried hard to play by

The rules?

But I also lied

A lot.

Led people astray;

I gossiped,

Slandered,

Provoked,

I’ve done some terrible things.

Things I will never admit aloud.

Perhaps I am a sham?

Maybe that’s why I am

afraid?

But I have to knock.

If I don’t, I’ll be forever

Lost.

My knuckles rap

On the peeling paint

Of the door;

I drop my hand

And wait.

Silence –

Then the slow sound

Of the doors hinges

creeping apart.

The light is the first thing

That I notice.

It’s bright,

The brightest light I have ever

Laid my eyes upon.

It makes my heart stop,

And it brings me hope.

The sound of an ocean,

Cool with the breeze,

Is the next thing I am drawn to.

It’s familiar and safe.

“Come.”

A voice warmly invites me within.

Carefully, I step through

The door, and onto

The soft, white sands below

My sinful feet.

Heart a lump in my throat,

Lung crumpled and useless.

“Follow.”

The voice instructs, drawing my eye

To footprints etched in sand.

I do as I am told,

Winding along the dunes

Of the beach until I see his form.

He stands, feet kissed by waves.

He is not what I was expecting,

Not one single bit.

He’s not as we depicted him in our children’s books

Or in our friezes,

Or in our church windows and alters.

He’s nothing typically special by

Human standards.

He just –

Is.

Being in his presence

Bears too much.

“Father!”

I drop to my knees;

Not worthy,

Broken

Ashamed;

I begin to cry.

How lucky I am to have glimpsed

Such beauty,

Such peace,

Such mercy and grace.

I wished I had known him better,

Served him well.

“Child.” He touches my head with

Soft fingers, “Do not cry, for today

I welcome you into Paradise.”

 

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