Your call comes out to me
Right where I am.
You don’t call me out
Of a place of life into
A place of loss, of condemnation.
Your call to me is a way
Out of darkness into light,
From being dead to being alive,
From the filth of the pigsty
Into the Father’s house.
Only as a son can I enter
The father’s house.
Not as a servant, or even as
My own self with my own life.
No, only sons can enter
The father’s house,
And the father only has
One begotten, fully His,
So I enter as He does,
With His life, as human as
He is – nothing less, or more.

Only you can hold me the way you do,
Weightless in your loving arms,
Safe and secure in the only way
I know to be true.

As you carry me I know that in this way
You show me that your love is not just
Something you say, or something you feel,
But something you do – for me.

I didn’t realise just how much I needed
Your love for me expressed this way –
How much I was yearning and earning
For a love that has always been given.

Though I can’t do this same thing for you,
I know that as I receive this gift
You experience a joy, and a knowing,
That as I receive you, so I am loving you.

To be weightless in your loving arms
Is like a shedding of many loads –
A gentle unbinding of covered wounds,
As I surrender my heart to your care.

Only you have loved me this way,
And as you hold me, there’s a sense of eternity –
A moment with no beginning and no end;
Like it was always this way, and forever will be.