But, You: A Poem by Melody Hansen

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BUT, YOU.

by Melody Hansen

I haven't been to church in a while. It's Easter weekend and I had almost forgotten.
I'm sitting in my room, Sufjan Stevens is singing to me new songs, and I'm holding my breath. I'm holding my breath because the words are sinking me in, and the sounds are heavy, and I feel You near. You are strong, and I don't know how and why and it's surreal.

I write to You a lot. You. My "Daddy", my comfort, the One.
Jesus.

I write You letters often. Letters of questions and doubts and fears. Open letters. Letters only You know. Sometimes, without words. 
Mostly, without words.
Letters of love. Where I don't know the hows and the whys and the "what happened"s, but where I am in awe and I am quiet and I am longing. Where my heart is breaking in pieces and I can't say much, but I am in awe and You are close and it's fragile and beautiful.

I like to think You are smiling at me. I like to think You are in awe of me, too. The same way a mother looks at her child after kissing them good night. 
I like to think that's the way You look at me. 
I like to think that's the way You look at us.


I haven't been to church in a while. It's Easter weekend and I had almost forgotten.

But, You. 
I haven't forgotten about You.
My Daddy, my comfort, the One.

Jesus.

Jesus,
the truth is,
I've heard enough sermons to know everything about You. To know how to be, to know how to pray, to know how it begins and how it will end. To know how You behave, to know how You speak and what You believe in. To know how to weep, how to break, and when to break up. I know the clothes You don't like, the relationships You approve of, and the music You listen to.
To know.

But,
love. 

Love, it broke my heart. 
It wrecked me, and still does.
It also healed me.
And still does.

I was told I'd know,
I was told what You looked like, I was told what it'd be like,
to be "good", to be "right".
But love,
it broke my heart.

You appeared, and I didn't recognize You.
I was supposed to know,
I was supposed to be right.
They were supposed to be right.

But, love.
It broke my heart, and everything I had known became silent.
I no longer knew.

(Jesus, I no longer know.)

I don't know how to be "good", or how to be "right". I don't think I've ever known.
I wonder if I'm doing enough, if I'm being enough. I'm trying, but should I try harder?
I'm not doing what they told me, I'm not doing what You told me, sometimes, either.
But, love it changed me. When You broke me, it changed me. When You healed me, it changed me.
The way You are close, the way You move me to hold my breath.
You are strong, and I don't know how and why and it's surreal.
And I want to chase after all of You.
All that I create and do and tell,
I want to chase after all of You.
Despite my flaws and my mess,
I want to chase after all of You,
with my flaws and my mess.

You.