Despite efforts to hide it deeply in my heart,
wounds run deep
and hurt has lingered too long,
I feel the weight of the call—
not to win, not to be justified,
but to surrender.

Not a loud release,
no sweeping tide of freedom—
but a quiet undoing of knots,
thread by thread,
tangled within my soul by resentment’s hand.

Lord,
help me in these small, halting steps.
To lay down bitterness,
one fragment at a time,
even when my hands feel too weak
to loosen their grip.

Teach me to forgive
in whispers, in prayers,
even if uttered through clenched teeth,
in moments unseen,
where pride falls away
like leaves in an autumn breeze—
slow, reluctant, yet certain.

Give me the courage to surrender,
again and again,
until love is the only echo
in the chambers of my heart.

Amen.