Tag Archives: God’s writing your story

Finding Myself In The Story

6 Dec

Sometimes I’d like to get lost in a crowd

Let the energy swell around me

Until I don’t feel separate

But a small part of a whole entity

I am tired of myself

Everything feels so personal

So internal

So stressful

So petty

I used to see the world differently

And I want to go back to that place

Back to the realization that nothing matters

But my unique contribution

But love

Like every step has meaning

Like no word is lost

Like I know everything matters

Like I can really change things

Change the world

Yes, change myself first

Yes, raise a family too

But what about that BIG thing?

What about my HARD thing that I must do?

What about pouring myself out

and out,

and out again

Once, a long time ago,

A teenage girl sat in her room alone and promised God and herself

Everything would be different

That no day would be wasted

That purpose would seep out of every pore

That she would be single-minded to the point of recklessness

Now she’s tired and feeling 30

And she buries her head in her hands

And thinks of all that’s lost

Then realizes nothing is

Because I don’t have to move mountains

All at once

Only a stone at a time

My promises don’t matter as much

As what’s been promised to me

I can change things

Brick by brick

Bird by bird

Word by word

I can change myself

(I have to believe what I am doing matters. I have to give this everything. I have to become someone else. I have to be me. I have to get lost in the story. I have to find myself there.)

So here I go…

Photo 315

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Divine Unknowns

2 Sep

In the stillness of the morning
I close my eyes
and feel covered by a peace
that warms the sensitive
skin of my soul
fragile and yearning for comfort
a warm cup of obsoletes
in a room of shivering uncertainties

I don’t have a clue
but I’ll stay inside the mystery
this land of unknowns
it’s wild and open and free

I’d rather be here then the bleak, cold bus station
thinking I know my destination
riding in circles to fake conclusions
living half-awake with no anticipation
drifting into a monotonous drive
where everything looks the same
all is safe and colorless

I’ve forgotten how to be alive:

be here
where I don’t have a clue
inside the mystery
the land of unknowns
where it’s wild and open and free

I’ve been down this road before
a clear map in my imagination
pale faces line the highways
and I don’t turn to see
I am too focused on my destination
I forget the point of the journey

there’s no time for ignoring humanity
no room to fall for the same old spiel
lies to fake what’s inside of me
fear is a traffic jam in my head
and the noise is unprecedented

but love is the driving force
love makes room
for the swirling apprehensions
and the deafening doubts
love doesn’t fear them
love resists forcing a hand
or controlling a plan
loves steers off the wide road
and brings me home

so right now
I don’t have a clue
but I’ll stay inside the mystery
this land of divine unknowns
where It’s open and wild and free

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These Unfettered Lines

10 Apr

 

my story begins not-so-right

fighting and biting my way out of the night

 

aware of having a face that wasn’t my own

obsessed with avoiding being alone

 

pushing, squeezing

trying to work on my breathing

 

never believing

I could really make it out on time

 

but this is how I came to love

these unfettered lines

 

I traded all I thought I was

into who I really am

 

I gave up following a straight line

and started for an uncharted way

 

I turned in my map for a songbook

and traced the light into the day

 

I gave up and lost it all

and let myself fall

 

into the grace of not knowing

where I am or where I am going

 

and soon I came to see

I had been strangling the life right out of me

 

with a rulebook as a noose

and a false sense of reality

 

but this is how I came to love

these unfettered lines

 

I gave up all I thought I knew

and danced in a dark room

 

running for the sunrise

obligatory ambitions absolved

 

I returned to the womb

and started anew

 

these words finally opening my eyes

 

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God Writes

27 Sep

God writes
what looks like chickens scratch
and I see them pecking in the dirt
around a hospital far away from
sterile America
where I will meet a skeleton surrounded by flies
soaking in his own urine
and light around his eyes and mouth
as he will tell me how blessed he is because
Jesus is real
and that will change my story
at seventeen
I will split open and begin to die
to small town dreams and boys with nothing
but beer on their breath and vacant promises
to love me for all my flaws
and I will see I can embrace the whole world
when God writes
scrawling messy cursive notes
bounding off pages
describing and becoming
gardens and glistening cities
itineraries and poetry
not to-do lists like I used to think,
or red marks of graded homework
“Good effort. C +”
and I will  find myself, the novel’s protagonist
written onto a cliff
on the edge of the world
purple light fading shadows on train tracks
as the world awakes and my inner dialogue
wonders how life can be this beautiful
when God writes
finger-painting streaks of turquoise across
bare white mental walls
a mischievous child’s decor
a graffiti artist proclaiming truth
“You are Loved”
God writes

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