...and with my emotions, I've cut about a hundred butterflies, and I'm decoupaging away.
"Ooooo, control, it's time to let you go."
Yes, if I could just let control flutter away in the midst of all these colors of wings.
The demand I place upon myself for perfection.
The guilt I place upon myself for failure.
"Perfection has a price,
but I could not afford to live that life.
It always ends the same.
I fight I never win."
She sings it gently, like she's been washed over with the secret. The secret key to conquering the battle for good.
"I'm letting go of the allusion.
I'm letting go of the confusion.
I can't carry it another step.
I close my eyes and take a breath.
I'm letting go, letting go...."
I close my eyes. I can almost grasp this mystery.
Yes, there are moments when His touch seems so real, so healing, and I can almost feel my deep cuts regenerating in His calm, soothing water.
"There were scars before my scars.
Love written on the hands
that hung the stars.
Hope living in the blood
that was spilled for me."
And all I have to do is surrender, lay it all down right at the feet of the beautifully Scarred. Surrender to the Good Shepherd, as He guides me to the spring where the Father wipes away every tear (Rev. 7:17).
"O, control.
It's time, time to let you go...
control, it's time, time to let you go."
