to God

i tearfully gave my life to god

like a child presenting their parent with

their most valuable toy

all crushed up and mangled

i said 'God i don’t know how to give it to you

but i know you’d make it better

i don’t know what i’m even offering

scraps of something that was once beautiful and full of endless wonder

here,

you can have it.'

and my mind tells me the narrative that you take my toy and

when you see fit

you’ll give it back to me, all shiny and new. you’ll turn that mangled toy 20 times better

but i don’t think that’s how it works

i think i cry and pray and give you my life

and You take and hold me first,

leaving the toy to sit alone on the floor

You’ll hold me

and open doors

therapy

angels (my neighbors)

and others

and you’ll let me

repair that toy

using your grand direction and trusting tactics

i think we’ll repair that toy together,

and at the end i’ll always give it back to you, you’ll give it back to me and it will never stop getting better