Purely Beautiful in the Pain

In the innocence of twenty-something
I prayed and asked God to use me.
Then I put on my make-up,
Dressed without care,
Walked out the door in the
freshness of youth,
And listened for God to speak.

I looked at the horizon
And saw God far away.
Fearsome clouds approached
And the darkness collected together,
Rallying its strength.
God was whispering
And I was listening quiet.

Caught up in the thrill of thirty-something
I prayed and asked God to bless me
Then I collected my accomplishments,
Showed them to God,
Walked out the door in the confidence
of a self-assured woman
And waited for God to bless my work.

I looked at the horizon
And saw God advancing.
Black clouds came nearer,
Spat lightning, roared thunder
In a magnificent show.
God was shouting
And I was smiling proud.

Forty-something betrayed me.
I prayed and asked God to forgive me
Then I put on my bullet-proof vest,
Buttoned it up to the top,
Walked out the door in the isolation
of an injured soul,
And waited for God to fix His army.

I looked directly overhead
And saw God above me.
Storm clouds were at my door
Pounding my rooftop, beating my window
In an inescapable fury.
God was admonishing
And I was weeping humble.

Fifty-something launched a full attack.
I prayed and asked God to draw me close,
Then I put on my business suit,
Took hold of God's hand,
Walked out the door in the insecurity
of a newly diagnosed disease
And pleaded for God to make me new.

I looked straight up at the sky
And felt God in the pelting rain
Beating on my face, my hair, my clothes,
Washing away the dirt, the make-up, the mud,
Stripping me clean of distraction.
God was comforting
And I was resting quiet.

And here I am today, quiet, waiting.
I prayed and asked God to make me beautiful,
Then I collected all my scars and scabs and tears,
Presented them to God,
Walked into His presence in the assurance
of one beloved and pursued
And asked God to let me see Him.

I opened my eyes
And felt God holding me tight
Wiping away dirty tears of mascara
Pulling back tangled wet hair
Pronouncing me His.
God is pursuing me and I,
I am purely beautiful to Him in my pain.