Different directions

She knew all along
That she’d always been headed
In a different direction.
That what she was hoping for
Was not going to be possible,
That who she was hoping to become
Was beyond her reach.
She was irretrievably going
In a different direction
As her most elegant dreams,
No matter how hard she tried
She was powerless to alter
Her trajectory.
Her life felt like
A rock that had been thrown
At an intended target
Through the air
With the best of intentions
Yet somehow, despite it all,
Is clearly on its way
To an undesirable destination.
Out of control.
Coming to Christ
Is not a matter of
Turning a new leaf
And mustering up
The moral fortitude
To be a good person –
For alone we know no other path
Than one that is diametrically opposed
To His.
The light beckons us to come
Yet we are devoted to our own disaster-
We cannot save ourselves-
We need a Savior.

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?
-Romans 7:24

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