Working progress

I’m still figuring it out

I am a working progress

My reasons for anger have turned into conquered fears

Tears that once burned the flesh around my eyes now tumble in slow motion along the sides of both corners of my mouth causing me to smile sincerely

I am by no means perfect

I am a working progress

He is beautifully sculpting

I am triumphantly submitting

Again, I am not perfect

In between some molding, I cringe

Sometimes I harden but his fatherly discipline caters to this child’s specific needs

I am a working progress

What a journey this has been and continues to be

I pray to continue being so, a working progress I mean

To imagine the arrogance with nothing to back it up behind the opposite side which states, I am now perfect

How ridiculous.

I delight in knowing his heights always provide an infinite amount of bars to climb

Bars that climb none other than upwards

He delights in securing my path

Like any child, I seek the puffed out chest of a proud parent

I am a working progress and will continue to be

These next few days leading up to a brand new year

Continue to be a working progress