It’s nights like these that I wonder why anyone

Would ever

Love me as I am.

I cannot help but see the finite in my use; the inability in my body, the inevitable heavy leaning on another that the years will imbue upon my form.

I will not be able to care for myself alone; I will not be able to pretend to be well; I will not survive if I do not allow, or perhaps beg, others to care for me.

And I do not view others in my place as worthless … I do not think of them as lazy, or leeches, or hopeless.

But it is so difficult, reader, whoever you are, for me to put two and two together. I cannot see the value in others and also myself. Somehow i cannot allow that duality, even though it is essentially not duality at all but merely the simplicity of how intrinsic human worth must be. Either we are all of worth or none of us are – there is some old adage that goes to that effect.

But it is so hard, faceless friend, to feel the burden of a broken body already – at 21 – and to be mentally inclining myself to its downfall. Others are planning which classes to take… I am begging my corpse to continue play-acting at life long enough for me to secure some form of a future. A stable marriage, a job with powerful benefits and healthcare… a lucky windbreak to cushion my inevitable decline.

Yet I profess not only with my mouth but with this very vessel – the shattered clay I am bound to – that I am a disciple of one higher than my burdens. His insignia is emblazoned on my flesh at the front of a prowling lion… so where is that faith?

Reader, why can’t I trust my King?

I am afraid. I am tired. Am I lazy? No, not lazy… but most definitely exhausted and undisciplined.

Discipline is a terribly slippery thing to hold on to when there is no regularity in your form. Imagine your skin changes color without any notice, rhyme, or reason. Try to force yourself to match your clothing to yourself each second of each day when your skin could change shades at any moment. Are you going to change clothes every time a new color bursts forth? Are you going to allow the color to settle before trying to match it,

Only to find it has already fled and been replaced by a new tint, equally violent in its contrast? This is, in a far watered-down and gentle metaphor, the unknowing of my existence. It is the smirk the future gives me when I try to prepare for what may come.

I cannot plan far ahead, Reader. I can hardly plan my afternoons.

But I can trust. And I will seek to continue that most basic principle of my faith. If I trust, he will provide, as he always has. And I can let go and be the shapeless, colorless, undisciplined form that I am cursed to be. A thorn in my flesh will not halt my God. I am what I am but I am more importantly His.

And it is to this truth that I stubbornly cling.

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I just want to feel again

Something other than waiting or suspense

Let me remember joy without tears

Give me the patience of love without fear

I’m full beyond empty with courage and loss

What sense does it make – Love,

heartbreak’s highest cost?

Now I wonder when I’ll feel like I’m breathing again

Is it wrong to identify the transitioning seasons

While you live them?

Will I someday stop coping and start

Existing

Again?

Jealous love

I miss your love, your kindness

Gentleness

And Peace

I miss the way you cared for me

The softness with which you treated me

It hurts like knives in my stomach to let go

I have to trust that God is just

That he wants for me what I cannot

Even

Fathom

I know He is jealous for me…

And will hold me as I weep

Judah

There is yet love in your heart; do not let it fade, let it fall

There is yet survival and patches of light

A place for the healing to start; in part

A consequence of what has been lost.

Do not fade, gentle one, in the waves of this passing

Do not shiver yourself out of your bones.

The crossing will pass and the passing will cross

itself into patterns – as of yet unknown.

This place is a journey, your steps are not hollow

The world is still firm ‘neath your feet.

You do not walk solemn… awaken and follow

The Lion who beckons you –

To be free.

water-walking

I wander through unknowns, shivering valleys and deeper lows

My dreams reflect the darkness new- but somehow light is shimmering too

I find myself awash in breath, a consolation in the land of death…

What waits beyond I do not know. A lonely hall dipping dark and low. I will not find what I expect-

But the Lion of Judah, prowling ahead.

Love conquers a multitude of sins

Once there was a boy. He was alright. He thought he knew what he wanted in life, but for some reason, everything just left him empty. Over time, things got worse. He was hurt many times by many people, even his own family.

The boy became very broken.

There was also a girl. She was alright. Death came for her a few times, but she lived. She thrived, and God placed his blessing on her. She was favored. But favor doesn’t mean everything is easy. The girl suffered a lot. She faced many trials. God never left her. And he allowed the suffering to leave its mark- as its mark was the shadow left behind by all the times she had been delivered. No suffering, no miracle.

So she was very broken too.

The boy and the girl met. They fell in love. Against many odds they built something, and it was mostly good. They treated each other well. They sacrificed for each other. They wanted to see the best and the most beautiful of each other.

The girl sought to help heal the boy, and the boy sought to help heal the girl.

But darkness from the past wasn’t done with the girl or the boy. It showed up many times, in many ways. It was a complicated and painful relationship from the beginning. They faced many trials. And they grew through many trials. And many trials were faced together that would have been near impossible alone.

And however much, their faith grew.

Time passed and the growing slowed. It even began to crumble. It was no longer a place of healing. The girl and the boy were not quite strong enough to give their best to each other. Pain and distrust and panic were destroying the goodness they’d built.

So, tears flooding freely, all other escapes exhausted, they said goodbye…

And God said this was crucial for the boy’s faith. The girl, still in agony, tried to be comforted by this. He told the girl not to fear the giants in life.

He told the girl to remember his promise- that he always finishes what he starts.

So the girl is praying and waiting and hoping. She knows it will get better, and the crippling-pain will cease, and the agonizing emptiness clawing a nest inside her will be chased away one day. She is stubbornly and insistently praising the Creator, remembering his promise:

I will finish what I started in you.

The girl knows that God isn’t done with the boy, either.

The giants will fall.