Tatters

 I often come to God in prayer with the tatters of my shortcomings.  My struggles, at that moment, seem to eclipse my good deeds.  Humility comes when I submit my scars to God.  I don't hide them behind my back, as if God cannot see back there.  Grace, God's love, becomes like a match that sparks the logs of my mess, and enkindles a fire in me.  The tatters seem to burn up, and peace comes upon me.  It is a restful peace that will better serves others. It is a sense of being happy, joyous and free.  I had nothing to give at that moment, but the seemingly heavy load of my mess.  God then did the heavy lifting.  That is God's job, not mine.  My job? Respond in love and service.