Jesus the Gentleman

I also realize that I am tired of fighting for attention. I am tired of looking to the world for that acceptance. I see Jesus just waiting at the door, just waiting for me to come to him. His arms are open, and He’s telling me that I will be loved. That I am loved. He’s been waiting there amidst the chaos, amidst the empty attention I’ve been trying to obtain. He hasn’t left, he hasn’t interfered. He’s just been standing there, waiting for me. He’s been waiting. His face is downcast, He is sad. But I ignore it. I ignore him. I look to other people for acceptance, for attention. All the while my Jesus just waits. He is patient. He is jealous, but patient. He is a gentleman. But I’ve thrown so  much away Jesus, why would you want me back? I’ve given myself away, and not to you. I’ve said Jesus take my heart, guard it, save it for me. But I’ve prostituted myself, I’ve thrown my heart in the dirt. I’ve taken it from you, and given it to someone else. But I am broken. I am teared. I can’t keep this up. So I do come to the door, I do open it to him. He is still there, smiling. The tears are still there, but his smile is radiant. He takes my hand and says welcome back my daughter. He doesn’t shove me away, or remind me of all the times I’ve ignored him. He simply takes my hand again and leads me out of the door. I am with my Lover and I am loved. But unfortunately, the door still remains open. Jesus does not close it. The world inside is screaming out, it is enticing. It is calling. But for now I rest in his love, in his acceptance. I do not want the world, but it is still there. Jesus, I love you. Please forgive me once again. Thank you for your grace.