i am almost

by Zach Kincaid

I am 
two spies short of trusting and
a slingshot shy from killing giants.

I am
tailgated by Baalish priests and
stuck in my own moat of unbelief.

I am
without an Eli to calm the dark and
whisper, "Go back and listen again."

I am
skin away from Davidic lures and
walking knee deep in floodplains.

I am 
a congregation of smug cynics 
shrugging off talk about God’s intervention.

I am
one mountain range away from
seeing angels pry heaven open to sing.

I am 
the bustle and buzz of Bethlehem 
who ran out of room to believe.

I am
the foolish one who didn’t see
a droopy star as any real, big thing. 

I am
the 11th leper who overslept and
the rich man who never went.

I am
at the well with rocks at the ready
as the woman weeps over grace given freely.

I am
hands full of dirt with no divine spit,
tugging on your robe like an idiot.

I am
standing underneath the cliff and
it's raining demonic pigs.

I am
up too high in the sycamore and
just one boat away from overhearing.

But I am now
cut to the quick, in awe that the God who made man
breaks into the broken and bleeds out love.

I am
almost.
Make me completely yours.