I am not a robot. My heart isn’t programmed, it’s pursued. My eyes aren’t blind, but they fully hope for the unseen.
I am not a robot. My hands aren’t held shut, they can spread wide for blessing. My feet can walk which way they choose, and I choose this. I choose Him.
I am not a robot. My soul isn’t metal, it’s made new. My voice doesn’t recite by script, I can pour out what’s real.
I am not a robot. I whisper it softly, boldly. I am not a robot. I release my hands shut tight. I am not a robot. I can pray without a script. I am not a robot. I approach the throne of grace.
I am not a robot. My eyes are ready for what they cannot see. I am not a robot. I remember the truth, pour out your heart before Him, God is a Refuge for you. And I throw out my fresh, new script again.I am not a robot. Chaos is welcome here. I am not a robot. Emotion is allowed. I am not a robot. Pain does cut deep in me. I am not a robot. I can cry out to God. I am not a robot. I can ask for blessing. I am not a robot. I can break without breaking apart. I reach the throne of grace.
Crumpled scripts are littered around my feet. Eyes cast down. Hands open. Chaos reverberates. Emotions hunch me over. But I am not a robot. I can come like this. I am not a robot. I can come like this.
I am not a robot and God responds to me. I can fall hard into Him without falling apart on the floor. But habits aren’t easily broken, and I reach for a crumpled script once more. My eyes feverishly scan for something to hide behind, but His hands reach me before I reach down. I am not a robot. Pour out your heart to Me, I am a Refuge for you.
And I hear the truth. He wants me script-less. He just wants me. But that’s just so hard to believe.
Everything I tried to bottle up while searching for a script comes crashing through the doors again. Chaos reverberates. Emotions hunch me over. Eyes look up but hands clasp tight. I am not a robot. But can I come like this? God gently opens both my hands. And I remember. I remember. He always loves to give good things and pour out blessings on a poured-out heart.
My hands open slowly, but my eyes look down this time. I shake my head. I shake my head. Again, again, again. I am not a robot. I am not a robot. But am I?
Chaos still reverberates. Emotions roar throughout the room. My hands are open wide and my scripts are on the floor, but my eyes stay firmly shut. Can I look up if I look like this? I am not a robot. But my heart screams back, “THAT’S JUST TOO HARD TO BELIEVE.”
But God hears my heart-screams too and unimaginable love is His response to me. God opens both my eyes, keeps my hands spread wide, crushes every script, and listens to the chaos with His eyes on me . . . just me. Listening to my desperate cries. Listening to my soul. Listening to the war in me with victory in His eyes.
Crashing. Chaos. Noise.
But He’s still here. He’s still here.
Listening to my desperate cries. Listening to my soul. His victorious eyes on me. My vulnerable eyes on Him. I am not a robot. Pain reverberates. Emotions ensue. I am not a robot. I can come like this. My eyes steadfast on the One with steadfast love for me, and He hasn’t looked away.
Listening. Holding. Giving.
Victory is here.
I am not a robot.
I can receive.
I can receive.
And I can receive like this.