I'm not as afraid of You as I used to be, and that scares me.
If I were a mindless robot, I would serve You with no thoughts to get in the way and without faltering for a moment. My performance would be flawless. But if I were a mindless robot, I wouldn't tremble. That's why You didn't make me out of nuts and bolts. Robots are not afraid.
I've pulled my own heart out, God, and I've replaced it with "do do do" and "think think think," and the result is a mixture of too much feeling and not enough. My veins are wires, and when I pulse, my heart pumps grease and oil.
Where's my blood? There was a time when it boiled in remembrance of You. The weight of You would crash down on me, and for a split second I was sure You'd drown me in Your blood. There is no more beautiful way to die. Now my heart has rusted.
I used to scream with glee for You to take me on a tour of all You are, but now I'm whispering the request through brown-tinged lips. I try to bend my knees to the ground in the fear of You, but my joints are metal and today they're jammed.
My comfort is that I'm afraid of my lack of fear, and that must mean my lack is not total.
~ Lila Kims
