Moved: A Prayer of Confession

Jesus, my Savior,

it is not merely the cross,

nor the rolled away stone

sitting off to the side

of the hewn rock,

not merely the emptiness,

and not merely the ascending

of body into the fullness of heaven,

the Triune presence,

nor the waylaying of death

and reigning over all

that merely moves me.

Each, carries its own weight,

of course. But it is a thought,

the thought that, of the seas

and mountains and land and sky,

what you find most beautiful

is your bride. To think that,

one day, she shall take your breath

when you see her; well,

that moves me very much.