Sup? by Maqui

I hope this speaks to you as much as it did to me while I was writing it. :)


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PS: Plus points if you know which Bible passages inspired this post.

I’m sorry, and I love you.
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It’s the cycle of the Christian walk.

It starts with repentance, “I’m sorry.” This brings us to a relationship akin to both sonship and romance, where we taste and see God’s goodness as his children and as his bride (the church). It’s in this that we get to know him more intimately. We discover his beauty, his character, his love; and likely we fall deeper, “I love you.”

Suddenly, familiarity sets in.

We get comfortable in his acceptance and love. “He’ll accept me anyway, I can get away with it this one time.” The adulterer in us turns back to the ex-lover. The pleasures of sin suddenly taste so good. It doesn’t end in one time. And just like a parasite, sin takes more than it gives. So after the binge, we’re left empty, guilty, and ashamed.

But such is grace that God accepts us when we repent!

We say, “I’m sorry” and He welcomes us with open arms. He even prepares a feast! We bask in this grace and love. The intimacy sets in deeper. It feels permanent this time, “I love you.”

Yet the more we get to know him, the more we realize how sinful we are. We’re not necessarily doing what is wrong, but our hearts… Oh, our hearts are so fickle. “Woe is me!”

Why are our hearts so dirty? Satisfaction seems to only be found elsewhere. But we’ve tried what this world could offer and nothing ever satisfies! It feels confusing, frustrating and tiring all at once.

We fall back to sin, but our soul groans and fights against it. This time is different. There seems to be a stronger resolve to fight. We want to come back.

“I’m sorry. I love you. Please, help me.”

And just as faithfully as ever, he accepts us, reassures us of his love, guides us, and gives us the strength to endure.

So we endure.
For the rest of our days, we endure.
We wake up with fickle hearts, yet he is faithful.
We’re filled with doubt and fear, yet he is certain.
We don’t choose to love, yet he continues to love.

The cycle continues,
“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I Fought” (a poem)
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On bruised knees and tear-stained pillows I fought,
My hands stiff from being held together.
Every emotion and pain uttered in wordless groaning,
Coupled with sighs echoing from the depths of my heart.

The rails of my balcony know my every move.
It recounts every sword I swung to the air,
Fighting for the last of this dying hope.
And yet, it still lives. Why so?

The longer I endure, the more I’m out of breath.
Was it true when they said that in waiting I’ll renew my strength?
As time moves forward, the less I’m sure
But the One who is constant still reassures.

What am I to learn from this battle?
Every day a knife gets thrust into my chest.
I bleed for nothing. Just kill me already.
I’m tired.

And yet, hope lives. Why so?
With a crushed heart, in faith I fight.
Though the candle of this hope fuels a dying light.
A sigh leaves my lips, “Thank You. Good night.”

Let me describe how I feel.

I feel like an Oreo without the filling, melted ice cream, or cold ramen.
I’m a half-note off from what could’ve been a great symphony,
A plane ticket without a visa,
Or a game-winning attempt shot after the whistle has blown.
Just not enough.
And I hate it.

But, somehow, a part of me feels grateful.
Is that weird to say?
A part of me feels like, if I never felt this, I would be very arrogant.
I don’t want that.
It’s just that I don’t want to feel insecure as well.

If I could have the humility without the self-deprecation and the confidence without the pride, I would be so happy.
But there are just some days where I feel this way
Because I’m human.
I’m imperfect.
I’m broken.

It’s this brokenness that causes me to feel inadequate,
And the same brokenness that causes me to be haughty.
But I can be secure today
Because I have Christ.

In Christ, I can be confident because, through him, I have become a child of God.
In Christ, I am humbled because nothing I do can have eternal value apart from him.
And, in Christ, it doesn’t matter if I’m inadequate;
Because if he can feed a multitude with just five loaves and two fish,
How much more can he do through me?

That’s what’s up.