I tried fitting my feet in her shoes but hers were bigger than mine. I tried on his and they fit perfectly wee but he wore them better than I ever did, or could still.No lie about that. I can’t tell which story hurts more even then, mine, his or hers. I guess never will we be able to tell.
In my darkest, your love dazzles me.At my lowest your goodness revives my sinking heart.Your embrace delights me.Your beauty resembles that of scarlet ribbon tied onto a faithful king’s right hand. Your brilliance resembles that of an amethyst suit of jewels. In my sadness the sun in your face shines upon me.It is your smile that releases your power in, above and around my existence. Your promises get attached to me like the bond between an orangutan and her young one. In my weakness, your arms like the Hollandia cedar support me.In my sleep I hear whispers from the corners. Whispers that hail promises carried by the stars to me.In my dream I see myself in the middle of the sea having lost my way.I see a lighthouse guiding me into the safest of places up on the hill. In my dreams I can feel the stroke of your hands on my weary face. You present your kindness to me like ripened fruit from the palm of your hand. My mind is wet with the taste of your grace. It is your touch that sires the embers of desire inside of me.The desire of wanting to be closer to you.It is your boldness that leads you to walking the deadliest tracks to the darkest pits of my soul. Your patience well preserved like the Temple of the Sun and Moon has withstood the test of time. You are like the Northern wind that picks up a dried fallen leaf .You are like a fresh surviving apple tree with its roots extending deep within the desert soil. Your presence is dominantly evident like the crevices of a newly washed garment. You move about like a hurricane calling to destruction my resisting ten feet walls. The sky burns red with the intensity of your hold on me.Your affection fashions my scars through which you helped me learn .Your song gets me out of bed when the weight of my thoughts paralyses me.I hear the messengers of the sky acknowledging your presence. Across your collarbone I see my name dangling in caps. Your magic creates a golden halo above my head. Your mercifulness allows me receive forgiveness for anything.I see my future tattooed in ink somewhere across your face. I’m reminded I can’t travel back into the past I’ve always hated. You took your lungs out replaced them with mine. I can breath easy now with the fulness of your grace. With a glance from your eyes I see rods of gold walking me through the ashes. Through the valleys of death. I see a flock of your sheep drawing me towards them.I lay my head on your chest and I remember my mother’s own. That is the only place I can find my peace. I don’t have to flee to an underground hole or a cocoon hiding from you. My imagination doesn’t have to be absorbed into questioning your existence one bit. I don’t have to be a rotting corpse from inside. For a while I don’t have to slide back the curtains against the truth in your authority .I don’t have to be swimming in a pool of what people think of me. You wrote on the pages of my book that you hold my true worth and none else. You are my savior when all is lost and I am losing my wars. When they judge my book by the cover you give me hope and give me a new identity. You hold me above the waters and hold on to me so that I don’t drown. You renew my strength when I have none. You tie your own yoke around my neck and release the load of baggage full of distress which I for years have carried on my back. I look up to you because indeed that is where my help comes from.I look up to you in more ways than one.There is nothing more I would ever ask for you.You are JIREH.
“ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
My mind tracing the cracks and chips of my existence,
I am made to recall everything,
I pick up a mental rock thrown at me,
I unearth all the hurt,
Old wounds reopened at that time,
Inside of my chest resurrecting some burns,
From a past I wish I could shed like a second skin if at all I had one,
But I don’t,
So I have to live with it,
It can all be better,
I bled but not to death,
I still am alive ,
I still will,
I survived the blows,
I so can narrate the tales,
Broken as I was back then,
I emerged stronger than I had ever known,
With golden marks for scars,
A new confidence finally emerging,
With the sparkling of a sky glass,
My story alive and dancing within like some tall savannah grass,
And that is beauty,
Value from my fractured remains,
Clay that has been again moulded,
That ,I confess with my lips so well,
I am whole again,
All by God’s grace.
We do not have to live with open abrasions forever.The shattered pieces can be put back together.We can become whole again regardless of what made us break in the first place.Be it abuse,rejection,addiction. We can be whole again.Our scars can be transformed into something of value.There will be beauty in the broken places.