Counted The Cost

 

I gave up my dreams for You.

 

Look—see them spilling into the yard, how light their faces, easy their smiles, twinkle in their eyes! The wind chimes of their laughter rising into the air.

Aren’t they precious?

Full of life, pulsing with wonder.

Breathing in amazement and impossibility.

There is no shore that keeps them from exploring, venturing into the wide world to expand it even more.

 

I was proud to call them my own.

 

Still they walk among the earth, dew-eyed and brilliant. I watch them from afar now, smile at how they’ve grown. With twisted heart I know they’ll go to someone else, who will nurture them with care and guidance until they mature and fully embrace their calling and are released to do what they’ve been created to do.

They will belong to another who will dance joyously in their success.

No longer are they mine.

 

See what I have given for You?

 

I am like another woman, living in another time. As if those soul-birthed dreams had never existed for my life, at most, a whisper of a thought quivering on the breeze of my mind.

 

So do not say I have not counted the cost, to let You lead me as You do.

 

 

Advertisements

Repressed

Oh my friends
I am afraid.
His ghost
wanders
through
memories
uninvited
with painful
longing
I’ve fought
and failed
to keep
repressed.

Only The Wonder

It feels like I’m the only in a lot of areas.

Only one around who isn’t ecstatic to be where I am.

The only one who isn’t in a serious relationship, married, or having kids.

The only one who has the position I have because I am single and can afford to work crazy hours.

The only one whose loneliness cuts deep, but is too busy and afraid to dive in and examine these heart aches.

Only can be terrible, can be isolating, can be everything I’ve feared with plopping in this new life. This season is one of only, attempting to excuse my disappointment and cover up with what I am assumed to be expected gratefulness. And I am, but I have to think of the thoughts that pulse behind my mind, lingering, letting me know not all is quite well.

If only I could have followed my heart and had my life work out the way I desperately wanted to.

If only I would never had opened my heart in the first place.

If only I knew what was coming, I would have appreciated where I was all the more. //

What if my heartache always lingers? What if it stays burrowed in the base of my bones? If only I never made hopes and expectations of my life, I wouldn’t have been prone to plummet in disappointment.

Only, what if all my disassembled dreams have been unraveled so God could create something beyond my greatest imagining?

There’s only so much time I can spend weighing myself with what is in the past.

Now, there is today.

Here. One breath and then another.

There is only where I stand today, a slow, sweet current brushing the bare soles of my feet.

Only the wonder of what is yet to be.

 

***

Continuing my attempt at the Five Minute Friday weekly writing challenge. Five minutes to write on the assigned topic. Raw and unedited. (Yikes!) This week’s topic: Only.   // symbolizes where five minutes stopped, and then I continued writing.

The Place Where Wings Unfurl

Your words begin wrapped in letters.
They are tight, compact upon the page.
I read a line, sweep it against the smooth taste of pen and poetry. These images that bloom from my lips as I dance them to the air release from your fingers to my breath.
White waves of underlying currents roll between each line, their hidden silence rising in the swell of your secrets.
I release each discovered dove deep within my heart. They nestle like children against their mother’s breast.
You have unraveled me; your words lift in grace to the place where wings unfurl.

Why Not Me

I believe in God being a God of redemption. There is something in remembering, in strolling through the memory halls of my heart and still holding out my hope.

We ask for the miracle and then doubt reality when it materializes.

We justify it away, fill with disbelief, run questions through our hearts.

I am too tender to take courage in the face of what I want.

And so I ask the million dollar question: Why me?

I am just a shy, simple girl who buried her nose in books when she was young and hoped with every inch of her innocent heart for a way to break out of the monotony of daily rhythm, to find a love that was true and fierce, to connect the poetry of life with beating hearts. And maybe, just maybe, I could change the world with my smile.

Why could I deserve anything great? Get the most treasured desire of her heart fulfilled?

Is God that good? Could what I desperately hope for be something that pleases Him?

Hope is that stubborn flame that will not be quenched. That soft surge of light within that unfurls its rays to break open the tightest corners.

 

 

 

Read the rest over at ALTARWORK.