Past

How do I satisfy my soul, how can I come before Him?
I remind myself of my weakness,
Over and over again my past comes to haunt me.
I open and read it like a book
That has been in my bookcase for years
One that I keep coming back to
I take it out and look at its worn cover
I run my hand over the creases of the pages I have turned

I see You standing there,
You reach out Your hand
I don’t want to let it go God
My past is my friend, a classic,
It is familiar to me.
I don’t know if I can put it behind me
I can’t let it go.

Yet all of my worthlessness
All of my shame is written in my past
And I can’t run to you with it weighing me down
I take it all and place it at your feet.
As soon as I forget the book
My face turns forward
My eyes do not waver
You are there before me

I sometimes turn and look behind
But than Your hand comes
And gently guides my face
Back to looking into Your gaze
Oh the mystery of this man!
Oh Lord You know! It must be you Jesus, it must be You!