It is in the room of this heart, Lord,
that you have made a space for yourself.
Where I once let weeds and thorns grow,
you now hold hope of gardens.
You remind me that
this place you’ve created
knows both perfection and agony,
and if I went without one,
how would I know you?
You plant seeds
where you once sweat blood,
and mend fractures
that used to be covered in cloth.

How lovely it is that
you redeem what’s been hurt
in the same way
it was broken.

-aac