Let Go and Let Me Love You
I’ll never forget the moment
I first told you that I love you,
thinking you’d be happy—
as happy as you’ve made me.
I can’t forget the fear inside,
watching your face fall instead.
Now you’re pushing me away,
telling me I shouldn’t stay,
telling me I shouldn’t love you,
that I’m better off without you,
certain I’d no longer love you,
If I only knew...
And so you try to tell me
the whole, the ugly truth.
You show me shadows from your past,
chains that so long held you fast,
all the scars that you received,
all the lies you once believed.
You say you lived a cheap façade,
living sin, professing God,
hating what was in your heart
while your arms embraced the dark.
“And now,” you say, “I hope you see
that your love’s too good for me.”
Now I know, and you believe
that I should take my love and leave.
So here it stands, your inference:
that I love you in ignorance.
Tell me truly—you believe
my love for you is that naïve?
You think I’m so above you,
and that I only love you
because I think you’re perfect?
Wrong. It’s because He says you’re worth it,
not for anything you do,
but for what He’s making out of you.
You think I’ve known no darkness,
or that my sinful heart is
not encased with ugly scars
that are identical to yours?
You think I don’t regret
years I spent, the hypocrite,
when poison filled my mind
from the lies I let inside?
Don’t say “But if you only knew...”
and shut me out—because I do.
The revelation is not the wound;
I’m hurt if you think I’ll abandon you.
Don’t try to tell me every deed
you’ve ever done. There is no need.
I know what happens within sin’s clutch—
my own past tells me quite enough.
Don’t think that I’ve been waiting for
a perfect saint I can adore.
I’m waiting for someone like me:
a sin-scarred wretch, by grace redeemed.
I know the dark still haunts you,
stalks your steps and taunts you.
I know the strike of fear
when it whispers in your ear.
And since I’ve lived with it too long
to think it ever leaves alone,
the one thing that I ask
is: stop this clinging to the past.
Stop dragging something day by day
that’s following you anyway.
And one more: let me stay.
Don’t push me away,
so when the darkness comes to find you,
I’ll be there to remind you:
Let go, and let me love you.