Posted in Life Lessons

6 Lies I Demolished on My 40 Day Journey

1. I need to be married again to be happy again. Nope. I am happy because I have life and purpose. I want to be married again someday, yes!, but if not, I have my Jesus, my kids, my books, my writing, my friends, my church, and my family that all add immeasurable joy to my life.

2. To get love I have to seek it out. False. To be loved I only have to be me. I am made in God’s image and am lovely, lovable, and loving by design. Ever tried to chase a butterfly in a field or a dog who’d escaped out the garage when you weren’t looking? I’ve learned it’s best to be still (for the butterfly) or go back inside with the back door ajar (for the dog) and they will come to me.

3. Men don’t stay. Well, some men haven’t stayed. It’s true. But my precious dad who loves me enough to adopt me stayed. My brother stayed. Some long time friends have stayed. Two things happened on this journey to drive this point home. 1. I got a call from a guy friend that my heart was afraid I’d never hear from again. When he called it was a brotherly “let’s pray together” kind of moment that I wasn’t expecting nor did I feel like I was worthy of. When this call happened I realized this was a deep lie I’d swallowed whole. When we got off the phone I recognized it as such, thanked God for revealing the truth, and have never felt unworthy day since. 2. Another guy called whom I hadn’t talked with in a while and apologized for hurting me and repented and asked forgiveness. We left the call as friends. Not every man leaves. I am learning.

4. I only find men who are emotionally unavailable. (Well, now this is true, but the reason why is because I was believing a lie.) I learned in the last 40 days that in my twisted thinking if I could get the attention of a man who was emotionally unavailable and love him well enough to make him stay, it would redeem the moment my bio-dad left and the moment my ex-husband left. In so doing I set men up to fail. Though they weren’t emotionally available (either separated aka: still married, long-distance, or just getting over an ex), I would get them to care, get them to a point that I was attached, ask them to commit (something I already knew wasn’t possible either now or ever, but wouldn’t let myself believe), then get crushed when they “broke my heart.” What a crock! I was breaking my own heart. I knew! I just didn’t want to believe it. From here on out, living in this cycle has changed. I do not chase men. I will not date anyone who is separated, long-distance, or who is emotionally unavailable. In fact, I’m okay with never dating again unless God holds up a sign pointing him out. (Whoo…the vulnerability I’m showing right now…)

5. All people are friends and I should be an open book. No! Just NO. I had a crash course in this just a week or so ago. I was open with someone about a situation I’ve been walking through, but didn’t realize I was being used to get access to a friend they wanted to be close to until it was too late. My being too open opened a door to hurt for myself, for my good friend they wanted access to, and for this “trusted” person whom I unknowingly enabled to continue her cycle of whatever it is that makes her feel good. Now I pass everyone through a “level of intimacy scale” that my counselor showed me and I don’t trust so easily anymore. Life feels safer.

6. I will always be chosen last, if at all. My Bible reading shows me in Jeremiah 1, Psalm 139, and Ephesians 1 that I am chosen, created for a purpose, and adopted by God himself. If that weren’t clear enough, I was chosen, given a purpose, and adopted in real life just so God could drive this point home to me.

So there are some of the deep-seated lies I believed. Most of these I had no idea I was living in til I slowed down and began asking God why I’m hurting so badly and how I can stop hurting and really start living again.

I realize some of my posts may seem too vulnerable or even make you feel you’re intruding on my life. Believe me, as deep as all this is, my heart is about 70 levels deeper and this is just the surface. I don’t show many people the true depths of my heart.

I was called to be vulnerable and to write from a vulnerable place and will continue to do so until God directs me otherwise.

Posted in family, Friends, healing, Life Lessons

I Am Created. I Am Chosen.

“I chose you before I formed you in the womb;
I set you apart before you were born.”
“For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”

Jeremiah 1:5; Psalm 139:13

You may not think about being in your mother’s womb, but I do. I have thought about the chaos that must have surrounded my mom as her then husband, my bio-dad, left for parts unknown while she prepared her life for me 44 years ago. I don’t usually speak out about this, because my mom is quiet about it; but my mother really is a beautiful example of what it’s like to be committed to loving someone (as she has done with me all my life). Her beauty lies in her quiet strength. I felt this same quiet strength as I prepared my life for having my son without a father present – 11 years ago. I believe God resides closely in single pregnant mothers.

Think about this for a moment: think about what it was like for your mother when she was pregnant with you. For some of you I know this may be a hard task I’m asking of you. For some of you I know for sure your mother was addicted, or she’d been violated and you were the beautiful result of a violent act. For some of you it’s a pleasant thought – your mom and dad loved you and were preparing a nursery for you. For some of you it’s hard because you cannot have a child. For some of you it’s very difficult to think about because your mother isn’t with you daily anymore, and no amount of knowing you’ll see her again in heaven helps the ache in your heart.
I know. I see you.

Whatever your circumstance, here’s what I know about every single one of us – God created us. He created us uniquely, undeniably in his image.

Until just a few weeks ago, I looked on this time in my life – the time I was in the womb – with discomfort and spite. The most consistent negative thought I’ve had throughout my life is: I wish I had never been born.

This thought has woven a theme through my relationships, my friendships, and even my own heart. I thought: They probably wish I had never been born.

I never wanted to die, I just never thought I was good enough to live. So I haven’t. Not really. But something happened recently that changed all of that.

I went to see my bio-dad after 44 years – and he couldn’t wait to see me. He was waiting for me with his eyes fixed on the road hoping I’d hurry up and arrive. He wanted to see me after all. And over a dinner conversation I came to realize that it wasn’t that I wasn’t wanted, it was that he didn’t have the capacity to raise me at that point in his life. He didn’t protect me or my mom or my brother. For whatever reason, he just didn’t. And it was not my fault. As I thought back on my life on my 7-hour drive home, God began dismantling that stronghold – that recurring thought pattern – and all of the sudden I am so very glad that I have life.

I had a conversation tonight with someone who I’ve chosen not to keep walking with. She said some hurtful things, but she said something that at first hurt my heart, then helped me realize how big of a lie it is and how this has been the enemy’s refrain over my life for too long. She said, “Why would you choose him anyway, knowing that he will never choose you.”
She was talking about a mutual friend, but I realized in this moment that I have accepted this as truth over and over and over. About men. About friends. About so many things. I have swallowed the lie that no matter how much I choose someone, they will never choose me back, because I am not worthy of being chosen.
This is a bold lie.
I am chosen. I am worthy of being chosen.

See, not only did God form me – uniquely, precisely, exactly Melissa – he chose me. He set me apart for this life before I was born. He chose the Dad who would adopt me. I heard today from my friend The Donna Miller that when you’re a natural born child with parents who signed your birth certificate, you can be disowned, but when you’re adopted, you cannot. I am adopted. Permanently. I have a Daddy who loved me enough to adopt me. And it wasn’t just that he had married my mom when I was 5. He married her, then he chose to adopt me. This was two separate decisions/transactions. I haven’t ever really let this fact in to my heart. My mind, maybe, but my heart had to shut everyone and everything out when I was young to protect itself. I had to protect my own heart because one of the main people who should have protected my heart – didn’t.

I got home tonight to a letter in the mail from a friend who said she’s missed my posts on Facebook while I’ve been mostly gone from social media this month. Her card had a picture in it that says, “Perhaps this is the moment for which you have been created. (Esther 4:14)” This is exactly what God’s refrain over my life is these days.

I got another card in the mail from my pastor and his wife – who wanted me to know that they noticed and appreciated my ministry at church last week. I got a text this week from another friend who just wanted me to know she’d missed my posts as well. This has happened a number of times over the last 37 days.

From the meeting with my bio-dad to the cards and letters and texts, God is teaching me who I am and what I’m called to do. He chose me – for this family, for this online ministry, for mentoring women, for this moment, for this generation, with these skills as a writer, and mother, and poet.

Truth is – I’m exactly who God has made me to be, in the exact place he knew I’d be right now, and he is in the middle of my heartache working it for my good. It makes me think of the picture my other friend Donna had recently – of a wound covered with a band-aid and God’s hand holding a needle and stitching the wound closed – but from the inside.

I asked God to go back with me to the womb. I believe our souls have memories that far back. I asked him to show me where he was when I was in my mother’s womb, and he showed me a picture he had sketched of a little blonde-haired, blue eyed girl. He was looking at the sketch while excitedly, diligently working on carrying out his design plan for me – one day at a time. Beside the sketch he had written out these words: creative; poetic; carefree; writer; mom; wife; friend; daughter; sister; kind; tender-hearted; smart; strong; loving; beautiful; loyal; encouraging.

You may not think about being in your mother’s womb, but I do.
I am so grateful he chose me and created me.
I am more grateful still that he chooses me daily and is still in his workshop – looking at the sketch and creating me.

Posted in Uncategorized

Let’s Talk About Text, Baby

If you caught the title reference to this Salt N Pepa song, you were born in my generation. If not, just never mind.

Tonight I wanna talk about texting.

My love-hate relationship with texting began in the early 2000s. I was in the middle of my divorce and lonely. So I did what lonely people do – I found someone to talk to. It was the age of chatrooms where everyone was chatting, meeting, and out of their everlasting minds.

I chatted with people from Texas to Australia. I chatted at all hours. I had friends the world over.

We wrote poetry together. Shared recipes together. Got together. Broke up together. Fought internet crime together. All without ever meeting face-to-face. I still have friends in California I’ve chatted with … one since 2003 and one since 2005. Its 2019. We still talk regularly, but we have never met.

This past year I’ve come to hate texting. Here’s why:

When I text back and forth daily with someone I have either never met or have met on a handful of occasions, my mind fills in the blanks with what I think they mean or how I think they feel. Especially with the opposite sex. I start to think I know them. And in some ways I do, but you can only really know someone when you interact with them face-to-face at least once a month.

Text doesn’t convey tone or inflection. It doesn’t show tears or anger.

It implies things for sure, but it implies what I want it to.

I’m tired of living in a false reality with friends who don’t wanna meet because they’d rather hide at home. That’s what happens these days. We don’t talk about it, but it’s easier to text than get up, get dressed, spend $5 on a Skinny Vanilla Latte, and actually talk.

No, I don’t always have time to do this. So in those cases I try for once a month, or once every other month. I have a really good friend I’ve been trying to see but our schedules always miss. I get it. We’re busy. But we need to get less busy or just tell our friends the truth…I don’t have time for you.

This is also why church is so good for me. I have friends I only see at church on Sundays, but that’s more often than I see the ones who don’t attend church with me. These are some of the best friends I have.

Also, texting allows people to lie and betray, even if they don’t mean to. Once I was betrayed by someone who decided she’d like to “help” me get over someone, all the while trying to nuzzle her way into his heart. The means of doing so? She was texting us both! This is why I keep my personal life mostly to myself. Because people can copy and paste and photoshop and create something that looks like I said something. Or seem like they care when they’re really just trying to get info from me so they can use it against me in some way. Betrayal hurts. Especially betrayal by a so-called friend via text.

So I’ve decided that if you really wanna be my friend, come to church, invite me to have coffee or lunch, call me so I can hear your voice, come to the house for a movie or to work on planners, but for the love…no more incessant texting. I mean…I’ll take every 6 months if we’re busy and we’ve known each other year in and year out and are at that point where we know and trust each other.

And when it comes to the opposite sex, please just call me or let’s have coffee. Even if we’re friends. Because when we text, my mind will believe you aren’t saying those sweet words to anyone else and that you’re interested in only me. That’s because I’m worthy of a man who is interested in only me and because I don’t say sweet things to men unless I’m really interested and have prayed about him. I am a one-man woman. When I get married, I don’t want to be tied to this one and that one that I got even remotely involved with via text. I want to live my life in such a way that my future husband (whoever that may be) will understand that I’m solely his. The more my heart gets entangled, the harder it is to untangle it and heal. I don’t love often, but when I do, every last piece of my beautiful, fragile heart is all-in. So I have to be careful with my heart. Just trying to be real here.

When I’m talking about texting less and talking more, I’m talking to myself most of all.

So that’s my text talk for today.

It’s day 35 of my 40-day journey. I have stayed off social media 85% of the time, texted about 85% less, and upped my call-time to some of y’all by 99.9% given the amount of time we used to spend actually talking.

Next journey? I’ll tell you all about it in 5 days.

Love y’all

Posted in healing, Life Lessons, Love, Truth, waiting, Word, Writing

Girl, Lift Your Face

My mind wandered this morning to John 4 and the woman Jesus spoke with at the well. I’m often reminded of her when I look in the mirror in the mornings. Why had she come to this well to draw water alone? That was an activity the women usually did together. For safety. For social interaction.

I’ll guess why she was there alone. She felt shame. She was hiding.

Hiding from other women. From society. From her soiled reputation.

Guilt will always point out what I’ve done (which is healthy), but shame sneaks in and replaces my own name.

Hello, my name is (fill-in-the-blank).

  • Adulteress
  • Fat girl
  • Single Mom
  • Divorced
  • Lonely
  • Heart-broken
  • Insecure
  • Flawed
  • Unwanted
  • Ugly
  • Annoying
  • Unworthy
  • Useless
  • Stupid
  • Unlovable

Has shame ever replaced your name with something else?

It has replaced every one of the above names for my name at times throughout my life.

So there she was – sneaking away to get water, and that’s when she met Jesus – the man who would change the course of her life.
Jesus was sitting there alone, waiting on his disciples to get back from town with food. He asked her to draw him some water and you can almost hear her audible gasp.

“Who, me? I’m (fill-in-the-blank).” (Paraphrasing here.)

She actually said:
“You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)
Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”
Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water?”
Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.
The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”

He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.”

Let’s stop a sec.

How many times over the past 16 years have I been asked to go get my husband? By a salesman? By a snarky married woman who knows I don’t have one? By a mean girl? I know what this feels like.
And the answer stammers it’s way out of my trembling mouth. My eyes glance down, or away.
I, I… have no husband. He left me for someone else he got pregnant.

Then Jesus spoke a truth that walked right through the solid, heretofore impenetrable walls around her heart:
“You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband.”

Ouch. Yep. There it is.
But let’s be real. I’ve often wondered if there was a more shameful truth exposed here.

Can I just be honest? Every time I read this story I put myself in her place, but I imagine Jesus’ answer to me would be more like, “You’re right – since your husband left you’ve had 2 other women’s husbands and 2 boyfriends you let act like a husband.”

The fact that Jesus knows everything and chooses to forgive anyway and offer a second chance at life always astounds me. He did this same thing for me when I was in a similar place as that woman.

Forgiveness heals.

I want to address something else shame has done to me over the years. Because I was sexually assaulted, shame has said I’m damaged – permanently.

I hope you’ve never endured a sexual assault of any kind, but something tells me someone reading right now either has or knows someone who has.

It was not your fault. It wasn’t.

Shame likes to whisper that it was. Shame likes to whisper that if I just wouldn’t have opened the door it wouldn’t have happened.

That’s a lie.

Girl, lift your face.

Enter Jesus who replaced my name with who he says I am.

My name is:

  • Chosen
  • Redeemed
  • Righteousness
  • Beautiful
  • Daughter
  • Lovely
  • Loved
  • Lovable
  • Pure

The Samaritan woman in this story had looked for love all her life, but was handed counterfeited love. I’m not sure what happened. Like me, did her husband leave unexpectedly and take her hope and strength and dignity with him?
Jesus gave me back my hope and strength and dignity. And he wants to do the same for you.

I had to stop going back to the places I thought would give me the love I want so badly. It just made me thirsty for more so I just kept going back.

But I was never satisfied, because that was not love.

My Jesus met me where I was – even though I was trying to hide my shame from everyone. He gave me all the love I’ll ever want.

Trust me. I know what you might be saying. “But I want a husband’s arms to hold me and love me.”

I’ve cried myself to sleep more nights than I care to admit because I want that kind of love, have it to give, yet have no one to share it with.
Oh darling, I know.
But each morning I choose to meet Jesus and allow His love to restore my hope, strength, and dignity. THAT is why I walk in joy and peace.
Do I want a husband?
Yes, I absolutely do.
Oh, but not if it costs me even one precious drop of the love Jesus gives. I’m not giving that up. No way.

Drink up, sister. Drink deeply of His love. Nothing else will ever satisfy.

Hello, my name is: Melissa, Loved, Beautiful, Hand-crafted, Adored, Poetess, Daughter of God.

Posted in Uncategorized

How I Finally Turned the Page

I was lying on my couch tonight when my phone buzzed. It was a text. My heart raced as I saw the horribly abusive words on the screen that were designed to wound my heart. It was from an emotionally abusive ex-boyfriend who decided after a long while of not talking – that he would lash out at me verbally. I shook my head and hit block on his number (all my numbers unblocked when my phone reset itself last month). The last time we talked I saved him from hurting himself. Though I was furious with this guy’s words, I knew God was in this moment – turning a page. Our chapter is over.

My phone quickly buzzed again. This time it was a phone call – from another ex. This was the man who was my boyfriend on and off through high school and then for awhile post-divorce. I’d gotten into so much trouble over the years with and for him. He always made me laugh – always. He loves me – always. But he is just not the man for me. He left me when he went to prison when I was in high school, which shattered my heart, and then many years later we ended up trying to date again for a bit after my divorce.

I answered the phone and caught up on life with him a bit and I apologized for always being on the fringe as a friend. He stopped me short in my apology and told me that I had nothing to apologize for – but that he actually needed to apologize to me. He told me he regrets just one thing in his life – he regrets not having been the man I truly deserve. He apologized for all the troubles he caused me. For breaking my heart. For causing me pain. I sat on the other end of the phone and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

He spoke words only God knew I needed to hear. He is not a man of faith – but God used him tonight to help heal my heart. As he spoke for several minutes he spoke truth to the lies I’d believed all these years. His words were nourishment to the raw, oozing, open wounds in my heart. He said he isn’t a man of prayer but he has been praying lately that I find a man worthy of me. A family man. A praying man. An educated man. A great father. A caring, devoted husband. He said if anyone in the world deserves love – that it is me. He said I deserve to have the kind of love that I give others.

All the things I pray to find in a man – he spoke those things as if reading from the pages of my open heart.

The more he spoke, the more I knew that this was God speaking healing to my heart from the most unlikely of places. He spoke things only God knows I struggle with. Since this guy knew me from the time I was 12 – he watched me struggle with things – he spoke truth into some long-standing lies and broke their power over me. When God decides to speak – he speaks, using whatever mouth he wants to speak from.

When he was done speaking, I told him I accept his apology and told him I forgive him. Then we said goodbye for the last time.

Another page turned.

These God moments actually came after another surprise phone call I received last night. This, too, was from someone God used to speak healing to my heart. This one, though a page turned, actually marks the beginning of a new chapter in that particular friendship.

Why am I posting this?

Sometimes God speaks to me this way – through the most unlikely people. And I’m being vulnerable because maybe you’re struggling like me and these words can help breathe life back into you too.

Interestingly, I’ve been mostly off my phone for almost a month – which is exactly how God chose to bring healing – through the phone. AND – I’ve decided that I’m going to rely less on text and more on actual voice calls because text is often misinterpreted.

Interesting then, isn’t it – how tonight’s ugly text brought me pain, while the voice calls from tonight and last night brought me healing.

God cares about even the smallest details.

It goes to show me that I can trust that He will work in me if I’ll trust Him, follow Him, and let Him work HIS way. I control nothing. Not even my own healing.

And it shows me that He knows every detail of my heart and wants to heal me in ALL of my broken places.

And that, my friends, is how I finally turned the page.

Posted in Uncategorized

My Final Goodbye

Dear Insecurity,

I never thought I’d be sitting here writing you this letter. In fact, I didn’t realize you’d taken up residence in my life at all until someone showed me a picture. And there you were – right in close behind me – photo bombing my life. You were in every frame. I just didn’t know it until I slowed down long enough to look through my life’s photo gallery.

And there you were, in

Every. Single. Frame.

I addressed you by your formal name, Insecurity, but you have many an alias: Self-Doubt, Hesitancy, Apprehension, Fear, Anxiety, Panic, Timidity. And you come in unannounced with your usual gang of thugs – Pride, Vanity, Stubbornness, Control, Jealousy, Codependency, Unforgiveness, Relationship-Addiction, Lust, and Gossip.

What a motley crew.

The sad thing is – I opened the door and let you all in, and you just stayed, satisfied with using me as a host until I looked in the mirror someone was kind enough to hold up for me and found my heart dehydrated, malnourished, lethargic, barely beating.

You thrived while I slowly began to die.

But something happened recently. Remember those proverbial photo albums I just mentioned? I found some older ones in my memory. I found the ones from when my heart was pure and healthy and strong. Before you. Before I became this sick version of myself.

With you and your cheering squad (all those I allowed in my life that fed you and made you stronger) I became a weaker version of myself. I allowed people you also inhabited into my life who promised to make me happy, yet bled me dry.

You’ve lied and lied and I’ve believed and believed, but it’s time for me to stand up to you and replace your lies with Truth.

I am not who you say – I am who I AM says I am.

I am not insecure – I am secure in the finished work of Jesus’ blood on the cross.

I am not better off dead – I am alive in Christ. It’s the OLD me who is dead. Get it straight.

I am not anxious or depressed – I am equipped with a sound mind.

I am not illegitimate – I am adopted.

I am not unforgiveable – I am forgiven.

I am not unworthy – I am bought with a high price.

I am not broken – I am fearfully and wonderfully made (present tense).

I am not a lost cause – I am redeemed.

I am not ugly in any way – I am beautiful.

I am not controlling – I AM is in control.

I am not your friend – I am a friend of God, which means you are my enemy.

I am not unlovable – I am loved.

You are not welcome in my life any longer. You and your entire aforementioned crew are henceforth banished from me. Forever. As a permanent statute. This document is legal and binding.

Get off my property in the Almighty name of the Everlasting God, Lord of my life.

Run away and never return.

As I begin to grow and get nourishment and live again there’s no doubt my life will get better. Your effects on my life are not permanent.

No doubt, though – our paths WILL cross again – because I know you need a host in which to live, and when I see you thriving off of someone else, I will show them the old crippled way in which I used to live when I allowed you trespass, and when they see the new me, they will know Christ and they will evict you. So don’t get comfortable.

No, we’re not parting on good terms. No, we’re not ever going to be friends again. I’m blocking you upon hitting send.

One final thought, Insecurity and Crew,

Go back to hell where you belong.

This is my final goodbye.

-Melissa

Posted in Uncategorized

There’s No Anesthetic For A Broken Heart

There is no anesthetic for a broken heart.
No stick to bite
No hand to hold
At least not the one you wish you could hold.
There’s no remedy for a heart break
Especially one that’s finally healed stronger that before
And now it’s broken again
In the same place
And you know this process because
You’ve endured it before.

When I had my hysterectomy
The surgery lasted over 3 hours,
All because
Where they were cutting
Had been cut 3x before via c-section
And thick, hardened scar tissue had formed.
In fact, my uterus had become entangled in all that scar tissue
So they couldn’t separate it easily.
It had to be cut and cleaned up –
Scar tissue and all.

This time the healing hurt worse than before.
Good thing I didn’t need that organ anymore.
It had done it’s job well.

But that’s exactly how my “heart” feels right now:
Entangled in scar tissue.
Every beat restricted by
Tissue that I’ve built up to
Help me heal before.
But unlike my uterus,
I need my heart.
It is central to life.
And unlike my hysterectomy,
There’s no anesthetic for this.

Some days I don’t feel it at all.
But the worst part about healing isn’t the initial cut.
It’s when the nerve endings
Grow and reconnect and do their job of allowing you to feel again.
But as it heals, it’s so excruciating that I don’t want to feel.

I wrote these words recently.
They accurately describe
How I feel tonight.

But…
A friend of mine had a vision this morning.
She said she saw a band-aid over a wound,
Then the Lord showed her that
He was on the inside, beneath the skin,
Stitching the wound closed.
As she talked I began to cry.
This vision
Is exactly what’s happening
With me right now.
Oh, the pain is agony…
I won’t lie or sugar-coat this:
This is the worst heartache yet
Because of having to
Cut through all the previous
“Scar tissue” from
Past heartaches so I
Heal thoroughly this time.
But at least now I know
That this time
The healing is being orchestrated
By the best Healer.

I am trying to still my
Aching heart,
To quiet my spirit,
And let Him work.

Perhaps it’s time to just rip off the band-aid,
It’s not doing me any good anyway.
Everyone can see the
Gaping wound in my heart that I’m trying so hard to hide.
It’s no secret.
I feel like I’ve had more heartache
Than most people do
In a lifetime and I’ve
Officially had enough.

So…
I need to rip it off and trust
That this time the healing is happening
From the inside out.
One precious stitch at a time.

Healing has no timeline.
I am learning.