Dressing Room
His love invades the privacy of my lies—
all the pretenses I conceal myself within,
all the little self-deceptions, malignant whispers,
the masks I have worn, subtle fabrications.
Parts of me hide in the dresser's back drawers,
are piled in neglect on top of the clothes hamper,
stashed out-of-reach on the closet's top shelf,
buried in the shadowy recesses of a busy life.
He comes to me through my cracked open door
He sorts through the disorder
with a practiced no-nonsense hand,
retrieves, brings to the forefront each artifice,
discards the refuse
shines His reality into the darkest, dusty corners.
With His characteristic charity
He unwraps the manifold disguises,
addresses the distortions,
self-told glib fibs, my transparent masquerades:
His truth clarifies, transforms...
until the last one He unearths, exposes;
and I, stripped and shorn,
kneel before Him in absolute wonder.
2 comments:
I remember this one! Great poem on its own - and the photo adds even more impact.
The photo is from our women's lunch program at church entitled--Dressing in Christ: what Not to wear last weekend. The skit a friend came up with was just fabulous and funny! This was a photo of part of her props.
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