So I was thinking one evening near a year ago, I was considering how best to go about asking God out. (I’ve got a hero-crush on him, see.) So I grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled, “Hey God. You bring the moon and the rain in the air. I’ll bring everything that’s wrong with me. Meet at Starbucks in ten. Call it a date.”
Being a writer of things, I could not leave it at that, and so when I was seated in that coffee shop as suggested, I drew out my laptop and went on fleshing out the very unfair picture of a rendezvous with the possessor of all power and glory in existence. Like so:
I’ll stand at the corner, dressed all in my best;
The rags of a leper and bruises of life.
Come wearing righteousness, come bearing rest,
And switch with the sinner You’re taking to wife.
You bring an ocean of infinite love,
I’ll bring the wounds for which You are the salve,
I’ll bring the hunger if You’ll bring the feast,
I’ll bring the sins if you’ll sweep them West-East.
Don’t forget power o’er nature and time,
Remember the worlds that rest in Your hands,
I’ll probably forget you, my Lover sublime,
I may not remember the gulf Your life spans.
You bring the moon and the rain in the air,
I’ll bring humanity, pain and despair.
I’ll bring my finitude, I’ll bring my shame,
You bring eternity, take all the blame.
You’ll be the Master and I’ll be the slave,
Dressed all in purple and wearing Your crown.
You be the sacrificed, I’ll be the saved,
Wearing your light as you lay your life down.