I am the cripple at Your table.
I come broken and battered and scarred. The humility drenches my being as I can't even lift my eyes.
All I desire is for the scraps to fall to floor. For the crumbs to find their way to my hands as my starvation is overwhelming. I am at Your feet, yearning for a morsel of what it could be like to be made whole. But as my knees become calloused and the condemnation becomes haunting I felt something. For the insermountable evils that laid upon my head and surrounded my heart created a down cast soul. They are more than the hairs on my head; therefore my heart fails. Your hand reached down and the markings of labor and sacrifice reminded me just how human you were. I began to fight off the power that consumed me, and allow Your power to overwhelm me. As my eyes crawled up to You and I beheld the sovereignty of your grace, I was placed next you and I realized the power of acceptance.
I was made whole.