Someone that I cherish dearly once said to me, “what needs to die within you are not your vices or attachments, it is the voids you are trying to fill with them that need to die. Things like loneliness, hopelessness, insecurity and the belief that God can’t use you.”
Sometimes the hardest death to mourn is the one within yourself.
You have been wandering through the desert your tongue aching, skin raw, feet like boulders that won’t roll any further.
Your mind deceives you. You are the gentle lamb in the lion’s den. What you believe is protection and validation is nothing but smoke and mirrors.
You haphazardly move through the world seeking a flame that has always burned within you. Your cup runs over, not with the peace that you yearn for, but with anger and resentment instead.
Embers leave the corners of your eyes, your chest collapsing inward, the tossing and turning in your gut singing a silent song.
You lay there. Praying. Begging to be rid of this burden. You ask him to sharpen you, and you invite him into mourning.
And it is sheer agony. Used to fighting a feat less war, you don’t know this battle.
With every morn and every eve, you cry out and there he is in the mystery of it all.
As you lie awake, as you fall apart in a public place when you’re ready to cave in. You feel a warmth that emanates through you.
And in those moments a voice calls out to you.
The depths of your heart are known, as ugly as they are, as pathetic as you feel. I know you, and you know me. Wake up my love, it’s time to come home.
No matter how dull the gentle promise becomes, your seat at the table awaits you.
Your pain no matter how electric is not unbearable. You have done harder things.
Listen to the small whisper and remember that resurrection cannot come without death.
Step into the crimson fire and allow it to swallow you hole and rise, rise into the night sky
You are the stars and moon that adorn the ceiling above us, together we form constellations.
But this is not only for an audience to feel something, this is my truth, and these are the realizations that have allowed me to wake up and face tomorrow in the darkest of times.
I am made of flesh, ligaments, and bone like the rest of you and there are days, weeks, even months that I don’t feel God.
But a promise is a promise no matter how dull I let it become. If he has said that I am a treasure, then it is my responsibility to shine whether I believe in him or I believe in myself. The rest will follow. If there is one thing that I know about life, it’s that life is current, and its waves will shift, and they will dance, and they will always change.
I have found a home in these aching bones. Shame and destruction don’t live here anymore. I am honey, and I am silk.
I held onto the crumbs that the lies fed me instead of sitting at his table where there is more than enough love to feast on.
I am free to love deeply, free to love bravely, free to love fervently and generously.