One Heart Given Poem

by Hilary Horn

One Heart Given Poem by Jenneth Graser

The inspiration for this poem comes from my thoughts around a spirituality of imperfection.  The journeys we take in our lives to discover what it is to be in love with God.  We go through places in our spiritual walk where we are too hard on ourselves and try to be perfect, and then we find ourselves also judging others for the wrongs they have done, which separates people.  But where do we find God? In a breathing relationship.  Being ourselves.  Unconditional love. Grace. This poem is my celebration, that God doesn’t expect of me perfection, but just desires my heart.  And what does God do with our hearts?  They become a feast of grace to share, because this incredible grace is for everyone. With so much fracturing around the world, this grace can heal the cracks and bring people together. This is my prayer through One Heart Given.

One Heart

I have heard it said,

Seek the Lord and his Kingdom

first, and all other things

will be added.


I have seen that some people

desiring to pay for their darkest sins

placed a burden on their

backs and carried it for miles

as penance of the most savage kind.


I have seen people sweat blood

and tears in a Gethsemane of

their own making

and weigh up their sins on a

scale of comparison,

some taking longer than others

to make their way to the cross.


I have seen fingers pointing

and people rushing for the judge’s seat

in a court of law, pronouncing

righteous judgement from their own obvious

point of view.


And I have seen a man in the dirt

with a guitar, singing love songs.


I have observed a woman on her knees

in a pool of perfume spilled.


There were children crying with their

arms raised in oblivious adoration.


The measures used and comparisons

became discarded stones at the feet

of One Man who dared to ask questions,

and write in the sand.


I have seen a person so determined

to be close to God, to stand in

the gap in the wall and lose

all things for the sake of love.


I have seen such a person

give up on ritual, lose all taste

for religious observance.


Read scripture as a love letter,

dance in the rain because it feels good,

sleep under the stars with a loved one,

walk the extra mile for one other

person in need.


Lay aside the performance schedule,

appraisals, ladders that were

meant to be climbed

and choose to pray as friendship,

a walk under leaves, on paths

well worn, close to the bosom

of nature, rough and wild;


and there this person let fall

the expectations of a past

of well-meant intention

but never-attainable practice.


I found this person chose

to sleep at the foot of

the cross and rest on a stone

before a staircase of angels.


I saw the altar built

stone by stone

and the fragrant offering

of one heart given,

never to be taken back,

never regret or second thoughts.


And this heart burned into the

heart of God as a burning bush

with a message to let all people go,

so that everyone, no matter who,

where, or what culture, colour, or

creed, may come, come, come


and find rest that forever changes

the one who is brave enough

to bring nothing of strife or perfection,


but only one heart

on one altar

burned into the forever flame

of God and God’s love.


Love that buried all ladders

at the foot of the cross

so that everyone, everyone

could walk straight into grace

without cost, deed or work achieved –

it was already paid.


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