Note to God

So I see you have taken me
beyond a place of doubt.
I no longer have that luxury,
for I find it
true
that there is not a place I can go
and you are not there.

I can not deny your presence.
No, not even in the midst
of my wayward heart can I find
solitude
from you.

You say you want the secret place
--I find that my secret place
is no longer my own.
For you are there.

What kind of God
would sit on a throne not fit for a man?
But there, I find you,
seated on the throne of my high place.

What kind of God
Would unseat himself
at my request? Would take himself down
only with saddened heart
(I see the saddened heart)?

What kind of God
would place himself
second to the motives of my heart
(and do so with love)?

There was a time
I thought you would
entirely remove yourself from me.
I thought (only now I see it)
that your love was conditional--
I wanted it to be.

But now I see
it is I who removes myself from you.

Now I see
it is I who condemns me.

Now I see
you never did condemn.
I was mistaken.

And this is the luxury I no longer have
--to doubt your love, your heart, your kind intention
toward me.
This is solid--no matter what I do.