Rock Bottom

There at rock bottom

Curled into a ball of loneliness

I shivered with shame.


Some condemned me,

While others spoke comfort

Still, I found no peace.


Then a small ray of hope

Shines through the cobwebs of guilt,

I remember the woman of Luke seven.


Knowing her guilt she weeps

Washing His feet with her tears,

Drying them with her hair.


I cannot anoint or kiss His feet as she

But I weep all the same

Knowing His blood was shed for even me.


At rock bottom I leave my guilt.

Looking up, I begin to climb once more

Clinging to the solid rock.

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