It’s like the simple act of acknowledging painful truths levels shame into the dirt,
It’s like by speaking this evil into life, you can whisper those wounds goodbye.
I don’t have to be perfect,
The gold standard knowledge; the crux of any healing and all praise.
Can I be conflicted just a little longer? It’s necessary, I think.
I don’t want you to sit with me,
But I’d love to lift it before God on my own;
To generate the strength I need through his grace,
To finally, simply, paradoxically
Let it go.
I hate that stupid word.
I hate to be beholden and dependent on anyone.
If I had it my way, I’d be a monster.
I wish I could fight for myself always,
I wish I could be a lot like God when I can’t and when I know it.
But I like that he helps me, I like that he calls me new.
You know what? At the end of study abroad, for a time,
I seriously thought about leaving everything I used to know forever.
I seriously considered never coming back; if only for a couple minutes.
I am ashamed I did that,
But not surprised.
I like that I can say that freely,
I like that it doesn’t make me any worse for having said it,
Because these things get thought anyways.
What exactly do you want from me?
The most dangerous question in the world.
The scariest thing I have ever seen is fear turned into blindness turned into destruction,
And if I were making it up, then I could look away,
Idk. But I like the uncertainty when it still counts as being okay,
I like being to be completely clueless and slightly terrified and
Still being able to trust that God is in control,
And if the odds are in my favor,
I will wake up tomorrow like nothing ever happened,
And keep marching to the same beat of the crazy I ran from yesterday.
It’s nice. I don’t want it to leave, the not knowing.
I like a healthy measure of skepticism,
I like being able to think through it,
And still give it to God.
Rumination is only rumination if it is done in fear,
But I can’t think less,
And I’d be happy to think a little more,
If it would heal anything that is already left broken.