(Poem)

When truth trembles on the edge of my lips, and silence feels safer than light, You call me gently into honesty, not to shame me, but to free me.

When my hands falter, when my steps slip, when I fail to do the good I knew to do, You do not turn away. You make a way back.

You receive the smallest offering, the humblest gift, the trembling confession of a heart that wants to be clean.

You meet me in the place where guilt once lived, and You trade my burden for Your mercy.

Not because I am worthy, but because You are willing. Not because I am perfect, but because You are patient.

Here, in the quiet place of repentance, You restore what shame tried to steal. You lift my face, steady my soul, and call me forgiven.