If I could go back.

I'd like to sit down with her, with my 13 year old self
And tell her so many things
The me back then was so...so lost
That's the only way I can put it
I know 4 years doesn't seem that long
And the gap of 13 to 17 seems pretty tiny in the long-run
But, to me, it's like that girl wasn't even me
And the person I think of when I picture myself then
That person I think of doesn't exist anymore
But if I could reach her somehow
Pull her aside at the skatepark, as she was snapping on her red helmet
I would look into her face, into her eyes
Her eyes that are guarded, hiding so many, many things
Her eyes that are flooded with an echoing sadness, a whispering shame
And I'd tell her all the things, the beautiful, wondrous things God has in store for her
I'd tell her that He is a Jealous Lover, and all this other stuff she's chasing after is a big, fat waste of time
And that she shouldn't worry about these people, these things, that are all so temporary
But the most important thing I'd want to tell her
Isn't really anything I can put into words
Actually, she'd just have to learn it for herself
And, by the grace of God, she did
I did.

Because the girl I'd like to go back and have a word with
The girl in the torn up skate shoes that was choking on regrets
That girl isn't me
She isn't real anymore
Because a Savior reached out his nail-punctured hand
Because a Carpenter called to me, called my name
And I finally had the sense to listen, to look up
Because of this Lord, this Jesus of Nazareth, my Lord
I'm not who I was
I'm not who I was.
And that's something that girl, the 13 year old me, will understand in time.