Driving up to my house, I noticed it looked
Vulnerable.
Exposed for everyone to see
How we live behind closed doors.
I’ve got nothing to hide.
No, that’s not why I’m mad.
I just have a sense of paranoia and I like to have my shelter.
But HE
Has no concept of that.
All liquored up and smoking like a chimney,
He stumbles through the door, mumbling to himself about the bitter winter air.
Heaving and snorting, I hear his lungs breaking inside his swollen chest.
Am I supposed to love this — this monster, this creature, this pathetic excuse for a human being?
But how can I?
I fear that finding a smidgen of love in my heart for this poor man is pretty much impossible.
And what baffles me even more
Is that God loves him.
How can God love such a lost and troubled human?
Why can’t I?
I know I’m not perfect.
Not even close.
In fact, I’m probably a far cry away from mediocre.
But at least I try to do what is right in the eyes of the Lord.
He doesn’t even…
It’s no use comparing.
I will always lose.
God loves him regardless.
Why can’t I?
