Joe Ogborn

poem: the gift

I asked God to make me more like Jesus,
so God sent me a gift.
God sent me a child.

I wanted to grow in compassion
so I watched as my daughter stood on the outskirts
of every friendship group.

I asked to grow in patience
so I watched as my daughter wet herself
standing just three feet from the toilet.
Again.
And again.
And again.

I asked to grow in joy
so I smiled as she laughed, played and squealed
in defiance of all the labels.

I asked to grow in self-control
so I bear the biting,
the screaming,
the door slamming,
the scratching,
and the hitting.

I asked to grow in understanding
so I watch as my child babbles and signs,
seeking to articulate her desires and needs with
barely
a
word.

I asked for contentment.
I asked for gentleness.
I asked for acceptance.

And God have me a child.
God gave me a daughter.
God gave me Chloe.

And said:
“Here you go. Learn the rhythms of my love.
True love will often leave you scarred.
Just ask Jesus.”

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