(God’s Sonnet by Timothy J. Verret; “it’s how I cope to hope in my ‘come clean,’ confess made mess, because guess what? God REALLY does care about our made mess.”)
You made mess. You were too strong. Too clenched fists.
Your free will became your nightmare, your haunt.
What you feared was what you faced; what persists
is your resists. “I can handle it!” Flaunt.
I made mess when I played God; still that role.
My hurts are too much for God to resolve.
It is precisely God who can control
what I can’t (EVERYTHING!). My hurts dissolve.
“God, our Refuge, our Strength, Help in trouble.”
Psalm 46:One – Fear NOTHING but Him.
He knows we made mess, are left with rubble.
“Come clean” and so will God. Love’s Synonym.
Made mess can get unmade: From mess to guess
what? God’s got it. Give it. Confess made mess.
(….and God bless)