I rise this morning, tired and weary, to another day of battle.

Before I face it, I sleepily enter into the folds of Your garment.

You stand with arms open to me.

I shuffle forward and feel Your warmth surround me.

In this secret, sweet place

there is no fear

there is no want

there is no worry

there is no confusion

there is no weakness.

Here I rest my head against the heart that I broke.

The heart that now beats strong for me.

The arms that stretched wide to receive my punishment

envelope me.

The hands that were pierced to cleanse mine

softly stroke my hair.

The head of Jesus, once bloodied by torture and ridicule

bends down to mine with a kiss,

breathing new life through my being

To start another day.