20 Years

I wonder if I will ever miss you less. I wonder if the anniversary of your being sent to Jesus will forever send me into a downward spiral of shame. All I know is I miss you, today and always. I hope to see you soon. My life's goal has become nothing more than meeting you, holding you, whispering to you my love, my regret, my longing to have done it different. 

I love you precious girl, always have, always will. 

I don't want to be today. I can't say that anywhere but here. Here where noone in my real life day to day knows me. That's probably sad. My life is sad like that. Of course I never act on these feelings when they come boiling to the surface for the millionth time. I just sit with them, wonder if they'll ever go away for good, wonder why I can't just be normal. So I say it here. I say that I ache for it to be over. Then take a pill, go to sleep and know that tomorrow will be worse, Thursday unbearable.....then slowly it will become easier to ignore, to bury and wait for next time. blah

Halloween

This post has nothing to do with Halloween, but it amuses me that I still spell it using the song I learned in second grade. Anyway, I'm sad and that is why I write. Why am I sad, who knows. Maybe because the rest of the world is out walking their children door to door while I sit alone in my house with the tv turned up hoping I won't hear their laughter. Maybe I am depressed. Maybe both.

I admit I feel like giving up. I have reached this place that I am not sure I have been before. I know the Truth. I know it it is true beyond a shadow of a doubt. However, I live as though I don't know it at all. My heart tells me that the God of love is, in my life, only the God of disappointment. That my heart will not heal. That I will never be whole. That my dreams will only ever exist in my sleep. That I am and always will be alone. That no one, especially God, will ever really love me. Now, I know those are lies. But, I live as though they are truth. And, I am told, that you can not live contrary to your beliefs. So, perhaps what I say I believe is actually not what I believe at all. What if I don't know Jesus anymore than I know His love. What if my inability to accept His truth in the depths of my heart means that I never believed it to begin with.

So, all that to say, I find myself wondering if there is a point to my story at all. Perhaps all this church, all this bible study, all this begging Him to let me find Him. Maybe it's all just a waste of time and energy. I feel like I can't seek Him any more than I already have in my life. He said if I seek with all my heart I'll find Him. I haven't found Him and He hasn't found me, which means I must be doing it wrong. Problem is, I don't know how to do it any differently so I don't know that I shouldn't just give in. The lies are easier to believe anyway, right?

Fifteen Years

I miss you today. I miss you everyday. For the past fifteen years, and for the next.

Wooden Heart

Ok, so for me, it was a little difficult to follow along with the artist actually speaking the poem. The words, however, are too beautiful, raw and powerful not to have shared.

Enjoy

WOODEN HEART (sea of mist called skaidan)
We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living
and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I've been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it's not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will...
so I've built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts...
everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sleep
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we'll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, my fingers in your veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed
but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

credits

from Wooden Heart Poems, released 06 July 2010

Old

I am getting old...rapidly. As I near what is, for the average person, the middle of my life, I am prone to sadness. (Considering my not so healthy lifestyle, I am probably well past the middle!)

So, I'm doing what I do, trying not to think about it. Yet, thoughts invade against my will and swirl tirelessly through my mind.

Thirty-five. Single. Childless.

That is not a place most people envision for themselves.

I'm sure there's a point. A reason for the state of my life. Some grand master plan.

The problem I struggle with of late is that if this grand master plan leaves me at this stage of life, the stage most people graduated from at ten or more years my junior, well I am not sure I am able to happily resign myself to that. There are only two choices, resign happily trusting in His wisdom or continue into bitterness and resentment toward the One who created me and 'wrote each of my days in His book before one of them came to be'.

It's a tough place to be, tough choice to make. I admit, I don't like it :)

What It Takes

I feel as though I am falling apart. I feel like I will break into a million pieces and not ever be whole.

The only good news in this is that I am letting myself fall apart....for the most part. There are days where I claw and scratch and do anything I can think of to make the pain stop for a moment. Most days though, I'm just letting it happen. I joined BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) and this morning before the lecture started I began to cry. So I went out in the foyer and cried through the entire thing. They pipe it through the speakers so I was able to listen to all of it as tears silently streamed down my face for an hour. If this is what it takes.....

I called a pregnancy center in my town and have signed up for a weekend thing they do to help women who have had abortions find healing. I had to go to an interview for that Monday night. It was short but the questions were tough. I left there and went to a friends house and once her husband went to sleep I completely broke down. Never in my life before have I allowed myself to fall apart in front of another human being. Sure there have been a few quiet tears that I couldn't suck up.....but never all out weeping, sobbing, heaving cries. It was strange and I still can't quite believe it happened. If this is what it takes....

The fourteenth anniversary of my abortion is next Monday. Now with all the memories filling my head, some that have always been there, some newly faced and severely painful, my heart is feeling that it's had about all that it can take. Fact of the matter is though, as bad as I feel now, knowing the worst that can happen is it kills me really doesn't sound all that bad. If that's what it takes....