to win a {steal a} prize

Sweatshirt pink with kitties on it
sitting staring at me amongst the other belongings
in the lost and found
and I,
just a kindergartener,
could not look away, wanting it so badly and
wanted me, I knew.
Sneaking home with it that day,
hiding in my little pink backpack,
no plan in mind just
happiness at my new sweatshirt.
And when my parents found it that night
I conjured up a story
that made perfect sense in my five year old mind,
"I won it in a race."

Yes I thought it was a superb story,
my kindergarten class having a race,
the prize being an old, dingy, dirty
pink kitty sweatshirt.  And as I basked in my supposed triumph,
new sweatshirt, parents who believed me,
my mama looked me in the eyes and said,
"Well, I will just call your teacher in the morning
and thank her."
Then burst forth my tears, my pleadings, my excuses
as to why they just. couldn't. call.
Until all else failed,
and excuses turned into truth,
through tears came admittance and
my humbling walk to the lost and found
in the morning to return my most

To consider how desperate I was for my prize,
and what a crummy little prize it was,
the lengths I went to
in order to attain such garbage,
how blind my little self was.
And yet now I run the true race,
the only which matters,
with a prize more glorious, more beautiful,
more precious than I ever could have
And to tell someone where it came from...
no fabrications needed,
I merely have to mention that
Name above all names
for which we do not steal from the lost and found
but give all that we have,
all that we are,
because we were the aching, lonely lost,
we were the ugly old sweatshirts and He,
the Only One we could fit,
He sought us, He found us,
He mended us into beauty,
and all because He loves us.

*reposting this today,
basking in the glow of being mended
into beauty*

1 comment:

  1. Loved reading this again. When something is good and true it never gets old. xx