Shall I speak of the whites and colors,
Hot, warm or cold?
Shall I speak of the dirty laundry not to be aired?
Or shall I speak of something else, such as filthy rags?
The filthy rags that my righteousness is compared to by the prophet Isaiah
I cannot clean myself up and make myself better,
For this is filthy rags to you.
My own pretentious religion, disgusting to You,
For You know the real me, You wanted the authentic me.
Not the cleaned up, perfected me
Which isn’t and never will be.
You’ve chosen authenticity
as the necessity of love.
Authentic wanting You,
More important than inauthentic
Looking like I do.
Not sure where this all leads to.
Just the ponderings of
You being the potter,
me just the clay.
I am joining with Lisa Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday. The goal is to write for five minutes about a word. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
Today’s word is Laundry