I come before you like a child lost because I am, and the one who never learns. I’ve gone astray and like the prodigal son, I am your daughter coming home. I have fallen prey to sin and many ills of this world. But in reparation, I am willing to learn. Through the mirror I was the queen. But now I am keen to look outside the window. I see thousands of people akin to me; making me realize that I am just a grain of sand you allow inside your massive life-hour glass.
I come to you like a weakling because despite the worldly gains, I am frail. I hope I am not late to apologize and trust that you will take me back into your arms. Whether weak or strong, surround me with your strength. Whether alive or gone, make me anew your image. Whether I fall, or uphold you, bless my lineage. Whether I hide or proclaim my commitment, make me truly spiritual, for the church is nothing if it doesn’t actually exist in the heart. And I am nothing if you don’t exist in mine.