Many Selves

Loving Christa,
Thank You for meeting me here,
In this place.

Thank you for picking up the pieces
Of my many selves,
And holding them tenderly in Your hands.

I sometimes wonder
What You make of all these illusions I create,
These false attempts at representing myself.

My working self –
Forever striving to improve,
Or at least, to make it seem that way-
As if that would make the job secure.

My social self –
Desperate to be well-liked,
All things to all people,
but not giving my all to You.

My sexual self –
Hidden away from sight,
Scared of what she is feeling,
Words whispered only to You.

I could go on.

There are so many selves around,
Pretending to be me.
Many fragments of a fractured life,
Scattered, half-buried, and broken.

And You know them all,
And You love them all,
And You gather them all to You.

Here, in this place,
You meet me, and greet me,
Hold me, and heal me.
Make my self whole again.

Loving Christa,
Thank You for loving me as my true self,
when I am with You.


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