Skipping Stones

I think I skip steps,
Skipping stones.
Let me be sanctified now,
Without the purging of the dross.

Let me love sincerely,
Without taking the first awkward steps of knowing, of giddy infatuation, of misunderstanding.
Let me be aged and wise,
Without the childishness of childhood,
Without the angst of youth, the pain of defeat, and love lost.
Perseverence without trials,
Joy without suffering for the higher good,
Humility without humiliation,
Perfection without perfecting.

I want to know you without the embarrassment of getting to know you and failing.
I want to pray with all goodwill.
And I shame those joys that seem ego and selfish.
I cut out the base, the base on which one learns to love.
I want Christ without grace.
I am ashamed of needing it.
I am afraid, for it seems my self worth is tied up in my own goodness.
For I am so ashamed of failure, of being wrong...it seems I internalize my inadequacy. And so I strive for wholeness without addressing those broken, fractured pieces of self.

I run on weak knees.
Marathon on broken bones.
"I am well! I will be well! I can!" I say.
But I am broken and breaking, I must be mended first.
Mending through experience and growth, trying and failing, and trying again.
Not being so afraid of failing that I neglect trying.
I hate sloshing through the mire of my soul.
And so I sit on the bank and wave to you from afar.
But you are on the other side...

Do I want you more than I want to think well of myself?
Do I love you more than I despise feeling my own failure?
Do I want you more than I want to save face and preserve my own pride?
I want you enouh to try to love you and risk, and I want you enough to drink of your grace.
I need you more, desire to be near you more,
Desire to be broken with you,
Than to be lonely and deluded as to my "wholeness"
I will trust your care enough to depend on,
Expect, Your mercy.
I will trust your character enough to accept that I will live on your grace.