[t]Humbelina

Redemption.
You scoop me up from my self-made pit and hold me gently in Your palms
Yet I squabble--writhing.
"No...No...No."
Pride pushing out on all sides of Your hands, trying to claw out of my self-made pit  
  -on my own. 
To take (control)
To be able to say, "It's okay. I've got it handled." 
But You hold me tightly--patiently--with a love that I will (never be able to) comprehend.

Until after writhing and clawing for minutes, hours, days (sometimes weeks)
I.
   Give.
           Up.
               ...Defeated. Absolutely defeated.
                                                                (Or am I?)

2 Corinthians 12:9, He says:
"My grace is sufficient for you. For my strength is made perfect in weakness."
Your strength.
Hands wrapped tightly around me as I sit raw and shaking, defeated in Your loving palms. 
In this fragile state I once again tentatively stand (touch the outer walls)
   --the outer walls of your loving hands--
Of grace.
Strength.

And I find myself once again in awe that after all of my writhing and squabbling and tempers and anger and pride and control and absolute bitterness
That You are still (here)
Holding me gently between Your palms
      grace.
amazing Grace.
      Jesus.

Abba, help me to lean on You moment by moment.
To rest in Your palms.
To trust You.
(I'm letting go.)