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Writer's pictureAllie Moroney

Tainted Glory



You gave me your very heart and being. You kept no secrets. Nothing was off limits. Everything was shared.


Yet my heart—accustomed to lust and deceitful conduct of men, who claimed to care for me—could not quite comprehend this love you have for me. Who is this God Man and what is His agenda? Surely, He must want something from me. There is no way He could delight in me so unabashedly.


Though I was utterly convinced of your existence, I had yet to trust in your presence. Love that is good, noble, and true. Will you actually stay? Or will you betray like all my idol lovers who led me astray?


Admittedly, I tried to wander, my frightened heart attempted to flee. Yet you patiently sought my wounded heart and were always there to rescue me. There was no mountain high nor valley low. There was no place you would not go. Grace and mercy in tow, eager to save me, eager to bring me home.


Stubborn to follow, yet too wounded to fight, I submitted to your tender might. Lifting me up off floor, you looked into my eyes and assured me you were not keeping score. And for the first time I started to believe, in the very core of my being, you could indeed restore.


Every abuse, use, misuse. Every attack leveled against me and in spite of every wrong I’d committed against thee. All could be redeemed and mysteriously brought back into harmony. Not by my own hands and feet, but by submitting myself completely to Thee. To drop my fig leaves and come out of hiding, to allow you to see me in all my tainted glory. Recognizing my utter need for you, my Bridegroom, to take care of me.

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