The word of my Lord was written
in the sand.
He placed it there with his finger
to protect me
from those who wish to harm me.
I want to lift my head
from the shame of myself
to read it,
to memorize it,
to live it;
but as I do,
a wind of tumult and fear
whisks it away,
leaving me with
no instruction,
and I worry what to do…
…until
I see his face
welcoming me into my life,
the life he meant for me.
As he helps me to my feet,
I glance back at the sand
to peek at any remnants of that message;
and as I do,
he takes my face in his hands
and tells me to see only him,
to seek only him,
so I do…
…until
I begin wondering again
what he wrote in the sand,
and return to that place
so I can know for sure.
The words are still gone
and I am left alone with
the loneliness,
the pain,
the shame,
when I am blessed with the memory
of the gentleness of his hands on my cheeks as he said,
“See only me,
seek only me.”
I smile as I turn from there again,
trusting again
that what I need to know
I will find
in seeking him
not in knowing
what was written
in the sand.