sunday’s secrets

by Misty Dawn

so tonight I confessed my error in complete vulnerability . . .

exposed myself.

allowing the nakedness of my heart stained with regret & freedom,

to be seen. 

regret for my error, but mixed purposefully with joy in humility.

but not mixed by me.

joy in the humility that I’ve been granted the grace to see.

grace that frees me from believing a lie.

a lie that sounded as solid as concrete.

a lie more common than the common lies.

I went out on a limb.

it’s not like it was the first time.

but it was a limb still.

& I went out far on it.

I felt the weight.

felt the fear.

the tension.

& I felt the confusing swing of freedom & growth mixed with the breathtaking bounce of danger & destruction.

would it break?

would the limb regain balance?

would I fly?

or would I fall?

I’m used to this place though.

used to the tension.

used to the risk.

& so I confessed.


because the truth is light.

& lies are darkness.

& I have a choice.

or so I think . . .

but light does not.

light does not choose.

light just is.

like darkness just is.

light does not choose to push back on darkness.

it just does.

darkness doesn’t run from light.

it has no choice.

it is pushed from its place.

one might call it physics.

one might call it God.

I call it truth.

by grace.

& I’m not afraid of it.

I’m not afraid of my error.

I’m drawn to it.

because how do you remove something you can’t see?

how can you do anything about something you’re blind to?

so I focus.


& I focus hard.

missing the target much.

but finding it some.

more often than if I chose not to focus at all.

sometimes my limb breaks & I’m forced to fly.

sometimes I just fall, & my limb remains.

sometimes I don’t even know which it was.

but tonight . . .

I don’t care which it was.

I don’t need to know,

I needed to confess.

but whether I’m falling or whether I’m flying isn’t the point.

the opportunity presented itself.

or maybe He presented the opportunity . . .

but I chose the risk.

whether from a state of free will, or divine sovereignty . . .

I was on the wavering, uncertain limb of risk.

I chose the exposure of my own failure with the probability of pain.

& received the pain.


but when has truth ever come freely?

without a cost . . .

when has payment ever been made for something that was free?

maybe when a limb breaks, we fall from darkness.

& maybe when a limb breaks, we fly towards a freedom that is light.