I Am Not Body

Exactly how much do you trust me?
Enough to strip off your clothes and stand in
the parking lot in front of men
where they will rip open your skin
with the grain of their fingernails?
Enough to let them drag teeth down the front of your face,
bone against bone?
Enough to let them bust apart your vertebrae
to let them clink to the gravel?
To feel the power of hate try its best
to make us lose the battle?
Trust me.
And I'll affirm your life-questions,
gazing into your soul while its making war plans.
Let me take this coal and brand you so that your skin will be easy to pick out of the crowd - they'll be quicker to kill you.
Yes, it will hurt but just let me do it.
Stop moving! Hold still!
Drink this and be quiet.
Sit still and trust me.
Say goodbye to your body.
My yoke is easy.

[This is something i wrote a few months ago when thinking about the physical and mental demands of complete trust. It demands confidence. My friend Allison asked me the other day, where I get my confidence, and i decided that most of it comes through my friends. God has been so good to give me the friends that I have, all whom are talented and gifted in drastically different things. It makes it a bit easier to trust him when I look at the wonderful people who surround me.]