Dancing With My Enemies

I have no special gift for being able to forgive people. It usually takes me a long time, and I often don’t even realize I’ve been holding a grudge until I’ve been carrying it far too long.
One day, I felt like something had to change. I didn’t know what, or why, just something.

I navigated to peacewithgod.net and there requested an online prayer partner. For what turned into 3 straight hours of conversation, this blessed stranger talked me, free of charge, through just about everything that had ever happened to me, culminating in a charge to actually forgive. Truly, deeply, meaningfully, forgive those in my life. Take a notebook, write down all the hurts, go through each, forgive. That, he said, was what was missing.

So I took the charge, and really set time aside to forgive people I remembered. And it was so hard to start, I thought I’d never find the strength to do it. But my God did I feel good afterwards! At the very beginning. I cried and cried, but maybe an hour later, I was the happiest I’d felt in years. Just like a cartoon, it felt like all the little birds in the trees were singing, the grass was swaying — just pure levels of happiness like nothing else this world can give.

As I went through this process, God sent an image to my mind. How lovely it was, and how much it warmed my heart and set everything to healing! I saw Jesus standing with a person that had hurt me a great deal in my past. He was slow-dancing with her, arm around her waist, talking and laughing with her, touching her face. Very intimate moments. And He was soin love. I just stood there, watching how much joy it gave Him to be with this person, as if He had lost her for a very long time and finally had her back in His arms again.

I could not help but feel so happy for Him. It didn’t matter what she had done to me, it mattered that Jesus was with her now, and that He loved her, and His eyes were shining when He looked into hers. The joy welled up in my heart to see my savior so happy. Jealousy tried to tug at my heart, but I knew too well that no level of affection for one person can diminish the intensity of God’s love for any other. I would have the next dance for sure, and in a way, already had this one, too. Anger tried to tap at my shoulder but I just could not stop thinking, “I cannot hatesomething that makes Jesus this happy. If I really love someone, I’m going to try hard to appreciate the people they adore.”

I couldn’t help but feel like I saw something profoundly wrong being made right that day, and with it, a hope that all those prayers for forgiveness for my enemies really will be answered, and God will be able to have those people, cleaned and made good from their sins, just as He is able to have me, also cleaned and made good from all my many sins.

God bless, and have a good weekend.

Your Servant in Christ,

Morgan Grace Hart

Buried

Some people who have known me a long time are surprised to find out that I’m an award-winning poet. I don’t know why they’re surprised by this, since it’s not exactly going to EVER come up in a real-world adult conversation. “Hey, want to go to the camp this weekend?” “I’M AN AWARD WINNING POET. AND YES.” “Hey this toilet is leaking pretty bad should we call the-“ “AWARD-WINNING POET, RIGHT HERE!” It’s a good thing, but not very relevant to my daily life. It does, however, have the huge advantage of enabling me to make an emotional connection with strangers.

In a world and time such as ours, when communication is often faceless and many are known by little more than OP, it is hard to reach out and touch the soul of another human being.

I hope this poem succeeds for you, gentle reader.

BURIED

Buried, this world:
I need something less temporal,
Someone who can unbury,
Someone who can retreat
The charge toward entropy.
A person of True Love.
(The Real kind,
The kind that doesn’t make it
Into rom-coms
Or romance novels;
Not of naked bodies
Rolling on sheets of pleasure,
But one naked body,
Shaking in agony
So that his partner can
Know Him and
His heart and
One day,
Pleasures
Forevermore.)
I’ve waited a lifetime
(From this deathbed)
For Him
To take his coat off
And place it on my shoulders,
Give me one kiss,
The kiss of pure Joy…
Tasting vinegar on his own lips,
He tasted of fine wine on mine.
I’ve waited
For Him
To weep and shake with Love —
The Love that made Him and
The Love that was completed in me —
As tears stream from eyes that saw
Calvary, spitting, throngs of onlookers
Unwilling to help him.
I’ve waited
For Him
To wrap me in the arms of a body
(On my account)
Bashed and battered
Defiled
Dehumanized
And finally,
Left for dead,
His drying blood forming
The mortar of the bridge
We built to one another.
I weep in gratitude
When he pours the first glass,
Tremble as I read
The contents label.
My first meal, then.
I have never been
So scared or so happy
To eat before,
Digesting mightily,
Remembering
When my mother would say,
“You are what you eat.”

I’ve known food and sex and childbirth,
Now even death, even glory.
My mind tries to add
Its limited experiences together
To arrive at some conclusion
Of this Man;
I give up.
I finished the coursework
Already,
But it barely prepared me
For my Real job.
After dinner He talks
And leads me,
Walks me to my room,
Lays me in my single bed
Softer than sun-warmed loam,
Gentler than His grave, and His Carpenters’ Hands that built it,
Gentler than my grave that (finally!)
Granted a key.