“I’m Not Going Anywhere”

As my lifeless body used, beaten, and abused lay on the ground, my mind is working overtime wondering how I can fix this. 

I feel rain hitting my face, but my body does not feel wet. I peek open my eyes and start to make out the face of a woman. 

As I begin to focus on her, I notice it is her tears hitting my face. 

Tears falling from her troubled and pained face. 

I start to wonder what could have happened to her. 

I see her lips moving like she is talking to someone but no words are coming out or if they are I am not hearing them. 

She sees me waking and her face beams with light and I realize as she draws me closer that I am wrapped in her embrace. 

Could it have been me that was making her heart so sad? 

I see her lips moving again, but this time I hear her tell a creature, a beautiful creature I had never seen before,

“Go and get my son, his daughter is here at last.” 

As she waved the creature off, I thought she was rising to leave me and continue on her journey. 

My body tenses as it prepares to shift from the softness and warmness of her embrace to the cold, hard ground. 

She looks down at my panicking with a beautiful motherly reassurance and pulls me in closer than before. 

She kisses my forehead and puts her head to mine as she says, 

“Child, I’m not going anywhere.” 

I’m Fine.

It started off as a wince. 

The feeling of uselessness. 

Of not being wanted or needed.  

Give it to me. 

Give me everything. 

So what if I can’t handle it? 

So what if my bones physically crack under the pressure? 

What do you mean someone else is meant to handle it? 

I’m fine. 

What do you mean? 

My knees always shook like this. 

That tightness in my stomach? 

It was always there. 

I told you already 

I’m fine.

Sea of Mercy

My boat is wading on the calm waters. 

I stand above deck looking out on all that is around me as you sleep quietly below. 

I feel the cool breeze of the evening coming in as the sun is beginning to set casting a beautiful pink and orange hue on the waters. 

I go to wake you so you can enjoy its beauty with me, but you tell me no. 

You ask me to stay with you and that there will be a beautiful sunrise when I wake that you just cannot wait to see. 

I curl up and fall asleep quickly with the promise that all will be well when I wake. 

It seems though that just as quickly as I fall asleep I am awoken by the crashing of unsteady waves and the roar of thunder and rain. 

I quickly jump out of bed to go assess what is happening above deck, but I stop quickly as I hear those same words leave your lips, 

“No, come and sleep. When you wake there will be the most beautiful sunrise that I cannot wait to see with you.” 

While yes, staying does feel like the safer option, what about my ship? 

I built this ship with my hands, it is a part of me; I have to make sure it is safe. 

I climb to the top deck and am quickly hit with the reality of this storm. 

The rain is beating down on me as I am being rocked side to side in full submission of the crashing waves. 

My sail has been torn to shreds by the strong gusts of wind ripping through the air and I can hear the loud claps of thunder as they sound ever closer. 

What have I done? 

Why have I come out here? 

The rain is falling so hard that it obstructs my vision and I am so disoriented from the rocking of the boat; I can’t find you. 

I can’t even find the hatch to get below deck. 

Tears begin to flow from my eyes as I feel the strong sense that I am going to die out here because I was dumb enough to come out during the storm. 

Then I hear it; the distinct creak of the hatch. 

I see you reaching out for me and I come running into your embrace. 

The same calm quiet voice that I heard before stepping out into that storm leaves your lips,

“Dove, come and sleep, for when you wake there will be the most beautiful sunrise that I cannot wait to see with you.” 

As I lay in your arms I am soon brought enough peace that I fall asleep, but my mind still wanders how this next morning will be as beautiful as you describe. 

That morning I am shaken awake, but not by the rocking of the boat but by you. 

I open my eyes to a face of pure joy and excitement. 

Before I know what I am doing I am running to the deck with you to see what the morning has brought. 

How can I describe the beauty of this sunrise? 

How can I describe how the sun danced on the water? 

How was I supposed to know that the rough and unsteady waves of your mercy were purifying me? 

But that’s it isn’t it? 

I’m not supposed to know. 

I can trust in your rest with me. 

Lord, let me be content in resting through the storm. 

Into Me See

This undefined desire for intimacy 

A longing placed on your heart to see into me 

Having to trust like a lamb guided by the shepherd’s hook

Following aimlessly even along the slippery stones of a brook 

Into me you wish to see but I have no concept of what that means 

 As I ponder my heart knows not which way that it leans 

There is a constant desire to be seen; a desire to be understood 

But I am fighting off your gaze with thoughts of if you made me good 

Intimately seeing, gazing into the eyes of another 

Searching for peace and comfort like a baby in the eyes of its mother 

Staring heart to heart keeping rhythm like beating drums 

Like two lovers in a dance and a song which the silence hums
See intimately into me and receive your desire 

See intimately into me and be ignited 

My love 

My child 

My desire

You Unravel Me

Who am I Lord if not your design? 

If I am not the ink that flows from the pen placed on paper? 

Am I not that piece of thread that is hanging off of a piece of clothing? 

I feel the world reach for me and pull so harshly. 

It twists and turns me around its finger to detach me. 

In my stubbornness I hold on to what I know for dear life, pure survival. 

Then I am reunited with the face of my designer. 

My designer reaches out to pull on me, but am I not fulfilling my purpose? 

Am I no longer a part of His design? 

He continues to reach for me as I am running from him. 

He grasps me and starts to pull and all of a sudden the sleeve holding me up is falling before me. 

I am collapsing, falling to the floor, the design falling around me, suffocating me, leaving me with nothing. 

Then I feel it. 

I feel the familiar pull of my designer; a distinct pull unlike that of the world, not a harsh tug but a soft tender pull. 

My designer pulled me up, but I was no longer an annoying piece of thread on the end of a sleeve. 

I was a long piece of thread that was so neatly and intricately woven into the design. 

How? How did my designer take away everything, my structure, what I thought was holding me up, and knew it was exactly what I needed? 

I thought I knew how the garment was made, but I put my ideas over the designers. 

He unraveled me. 

He unraveled me to remind me that I am a thread made for a garment infinitely more beautiful than any garment I could fathom. 

I am a thread. 

I am a daughter. 

I am his daughter and the Father will continue to unravel me until I see that. 

Longing For Another I

I place my head in the crook of His neck with no hesitation 

I don’t know how long I have been here, but I pray I am never taken

His presence consumes me like a consuming and soothing fire 

Having Him near me is all that I desire 

But inside me there still stirs a deep ache 

A longing for another I but of that I don’t know what to make 

I know in Him I have all that I could ever need

But for some reason I find myself voicing to Him my greed 

“Father, I long for another to shoulder the weight of my humanity

Someone I can stand with to make me a better me” 

“Daughter, don't you know that I am the one who gave you this deep desire?

I have a plan for you, but for now stay with me. Let me draw you in tighter” 

I am able to be with Him more fully because I know He has something in store

He has a plan for my heart and the love that it needs to pour 

Times passes and I am content with my longing for I know its place 

But I am struck with nerves as He says its time to move from this space

He says, “Your other I is in the garden and he and I have been walking

And oh daughter how he expresses for you a deep utter longing” 

My Father affirms my readiness but I know I will still have a need 

I don’t know what is next or what things it will heed 

I walk with Him through this garden, eyes closed, being guided by His hand 

Once we stop my knees are weak and I don’t know how long I can stand

My Father says, “Open your eyes” and there my other I’s eyes staring into me 

I am overwhelmed with peace as I see what he sees in me 

He sees my Father who he knows as deeply as I 

I can’t stop seeing my Father through him and I don’t try 

I know in this moment that this is how it was made to be

Giving and receiving from my Beloved and love for all eternity 

Drowning With You

Water comes in many forms. 

It can be frozen solid over a huge span of land causing whatever tries to enter it to glide along its surface. 

It can be so heavily salted that almost anything that enters its depths will float right to the top. 

It can have waves that remain calm and still or waves so strong they can harshly drag you down leaving little room for you to come up for air. 

It can be a tiny stream constantly fighting to keep flowing or a large river gushing past as if on a mission. 

Father, if I am to be formed after your merciful heart and engulfed by your mercy, first I must know how does your mercy flow? 

What form does the water of your mercy take? 

Right now I feel like I am in it, the sea of your mercy. 

My boat is being struck by waves on all sides. 

Mother Mary’s tears are falling on me from the sky mourning with me, but also riling up the storm.

I see the hatch that leads to where you are safe and sound sleeping below deck but how? 

How are you possibly sleeping through all the chaos that your sea of mercy is causing? 

I went below deck to meet you and I planned to scream and yell and say all the awful things, but once I saw you lying peacefully I couldn’t do it. 

I see there is a spot next to you as if it was waiting for me to come and find you. 

I curl up still feeling the rocking and torment of the boat, but then all I can feel is the sweetness of your embrace. 

The tears begin to fill my eyes and the lower deck of the boat starts to fill with water. 

We are overcome by the water and I am drowning in the sea of mercy, but I am completely at peace because I am no longer barring the storm alone. 

My Beloved’s Gaze

Oh how all encompassing are the eyes that haunt me

Fixated onto my heart illuminating parts I don’t see

My eyes shift up, down, left, right, front to back

But His stay focused never losing track

His eyes are speaking more words then He can ever say

They articulate His story in which He says I have an important part to play

They love me then, now, and the places I am going

In them I see the beautiful seeds He’s been sowing

I see the little girl reuniting with her Father

I see all the ways she fell and how He caught her

I see intention, devotion, a love that I cannot easily define

I see once and for all the truth, I am His and He is mine.

This is My Body

Have you ever had that moment when on the first try you find that insane itch

And right when you make contact it’s a second of instant relief and you hear your breath hitch

And then you scratch and you scratch until you are bleeding red and raw

Hacking away at the spot with your hand that now feels like a saw

And as you scratch and scratch it’s like the spot migrates to somewhere else

But as you move to the new spot the old spot is itching and you second guess your self

What spot do I tackle first? What needs my immediate attention?

But what is causing the itching no one has bothered to mention.

I have spent my time moving from spot to spot

Feeling insane as I notice another red dot

So busy and consumed by hacking away at bits and pieces of me

Wishing that just for a moment I could separate myself from this body

Have a minute to breath a full breathe; one of pain free ease

Taking in all the oxygen I can hoping the pain will continue to cease

But the breath isn’t even halfway down my chest before the itching is all consuming

Maybe if I lie still it will stop the seemingly incessant moving

But now he is here and has taken it as a sign that I have given up; finally he has won

Walls and things that were holding him back; he thinks there are none

He can take over me for I have given up; I have no more fight

He has dangled the apple and I have come in for a greedy bite

You see he thought he knew what I needed; his chaos has now become consistent

This is the better way on that he will stay insistent

But I’m sorry, he mistook my silence for surrender

I was still here taking in breathe after breathe trying to mend her

This chaos he’s fabricated is not mine I do not claim it

In myself I was at peace and that I am willing to name it

I’ve stepped on the serpent; on his blood I’d rather sip

And that apple he offered now rots in his grip,

Yes I scratched and scratched until I left myself raw and bleeding

But it’s the only way that my love could come in and start the healing

So yes, I am finally healing and I’ve just begun,

This war isn’t over — and he hasn’t won.

I am raising my voice now; I want to say this loud and clear

This is my body; and you are not welcome here

Will You Ache With Me?

There is a longing in my heart

An endless longing for my bride that I feel every time we part

I never actually leave her, but somehow she will completely forget that I am there

Or sometimes she doesn’t want to see me and locks me up like her hearts a zoo and I’m the bear

She is always mumbling about when I look at her what I must see

Truth be told I only see the unique and beautiful gift my Father made for me

Her brokenness wounds me but Abba I will take every wound in stride

I feel a lash hit my back every time she pulls away like a strong beachfront tide

I experience pain and I try my best to show her everyday

Not to sadden her or weaken her but to show her I will always stay

But I don’t understand she won’t show her pain to me

Like if I see her in pain I may decide to flee

What hurts more than a lash on my back is being a passed over flicker in her thoughts

She turns toward the finite her friends, a bottle, things that for her love they have never fought

No matter how much I want to reach out and touch her my hands are restrained she must come to my feet

Pain radiates through my body as I fight the restraints that I have to wait three days to beat

My beautiful bride finally approaches and says “My love it is right here weeping at your feet that I wish to stay”

I breathe a pain free sigh of relieve and say “My dove I am so grateful to ache with you today”

A Conversation With My Younger Self

I walk in that familiar room and even as an adult my footsteps are shaken

I look around breathing in the memories of a childhood that feels long ago taken

I see her there and she is more beautiful than I could ever imagine

That little bob, straight across bangs, bouncing around the room looking for action

She notices me and with a confidence we are slowly regaining says, “Hi I’m Hallee, who are you?”

I bend down to her level and begin speaking as I start to tie her untied shoe

“I’m you when you’re older, isn’t that cool?” And her face fills with a smile so big

She places her hands on my cheeks and holds my gaze “Wow, we’re beautiful” and she does a silly jig

How can I possibly tell her that we are just starting to believe that truth

That these are the kind of thoughts that will haunt most of her youth

Instead I smile back and affirm her telling her all the truths I know she will fight to believe

Hoping that she can look back onto this memory and gain some reprieve

She looks at me with wonder and ponders what may seem like a simple question

She says “What’s it like being a grown up?” and I look around for somebody else to give a suggestion

There is so much to say but I couldn’t stand to see her heart shatter

I mean she still believes in Cinderella and happily ever after

She believes in princes and knights in castles made of stone

She believes in wishing on stars when she is all alone

She believes in journals that hold the weight of her dreams

She believes in a Heaven made of gold with flowing chocolate streams

So I say, “sweet girl I wish being a grown up was as simple as wishing on a star, waiting for it to come true

But being a grown ups more like when you dream at night everyday can bring something new.

You get to close your eyes and open them up never knowing what is in store

The dreams will grow and change shape—but they’ll always be yours

Joy and fear, sadness and anger, will all demand to be felt by you

But through it all there’s a light softly shining, holding steady and true.

The night can feel endless and sometimes the dreams feel unclear,

But that light will guide you gently, casting out all your fear.

We had to learn to trust that light, its a love you can’t always see,
It’s your Heavenly Father weaving your story, setting you free.

And every dream that you dream, and every tear that you cry,
Will be held in hands bigger than the endless sky.”

That little face is staring up at me and I see a tear fall out the corner of her eye

I realize she already knows of the shadows and dreams that make her cry

She says, “but dreams can be scary and I’m not allowed to crawl into mom and dads bed

So what do I do when the dark and the shadows fill my head?”

I shake my head, “It sounds crazy to say, but the light is always there no matter how dark the dreams get

And most of the time it’s us doing the hiding, on that I would place a bet

She frowns a little and kicks the floor, “So it’s my fault, it is because I’m not brave,”
And I say, “little one—bravery isn’t the absence of fear, that is not a path you are going to pave

“You will not be perfect, you’ll cry, and you’ll fall, and you’ll lose your way,
But you’ll always get back up, because of love that will stay”

“You’re prayers won’t always be answered in the way that you planned,
But they will always be heard, always held, by His steady and gentle hand.”

“The world will be loud and more often then not what you are really hiding from is the noise

But the world is still beautiful, it’s where you’ll find people and unexpected joys”

She nods and bites her lip, “But will I be alone when I’m big like you?”
I pull her in close, “Never. Not even once. Not with God. Not with me, too.”

Then she whispers, almost shyly, “Will I still get to sing and dance when I want”

And I grin, “Oh Hallee, you’ll do all of that—and more- both joy and journeys to flaunt

“You’ll love and you’ll laugh so hard that it aches,
And you’ll make mistakes—so many mistakes—but none that the Father can’t remake.”

She breathes a sigh and leans into me, like letting go of a secret we were both trying to keep,
And I hold her, the child I was, the soul still learning how to sleep.

She sits up and gives me one last longing stare while getting ready to stand

She doesn’t try to do it on her own, she lets me hold her hand

And before she runs back off to her world of singing, playing pretend, or whatever it is that young Hallee’s do

She turns to me and says, “Im really glad I’ll grow up to be you.”

A Thousand Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words 

But I don’t understand how one image can replace a plethora of nouns and verbs? 

I think it’s less about the image and more words come from a lack thereof 

Because one day you can come home to an image gone and that’s a thousand words no longer spoken of

You explore a home and see a beautiful gold trimmed image of a bride and groom 

You see pictures of their smiling children and there is a level of happiness that you presume 

You say, “Wow what a beautiful home and family this is” 

You don’t even take 2 seconds more to ponder what life may have looked like for that mother, father, and their kids 

The images fail to mention the unforgivable words that have been spoken 

It doesn’t show the words the bride begins crying to her daughter after her hearts been broken 

You can’t hear as they continuously over share, overbearing the heart of their daughter 

No, all you can see is the image that we picked and the words that it seemingly offers 

Now you come back to the home and there is an empty nail on the wall

You hurriedly pick up a phone and give that bride from the image a call

You say, “where is it?” And she tells you the truth, no detail does she spare 

You ask about the life of her children because as it appears, now you care

All it took was one picture taken off the wall for there to be a thousand new words for you to ask 

Now you are telling me a thousand words I lived through like it’s your God given task 

So yeah there is that saying, “An image speaks a thousand words” 

But If that’s true then an image removed must speak the words that have gone unheard.

Divine Mercy in My Soul

My child, delight of my heart 

It is from your soul my eyes pray to not part 

O my sweet dove, you are hiding yet I hear you call out my name 

My hands are bound by your love; I am tame 

It is only peace, love, and mercy that I wish to bestow 

An unfathomable mercy and wounds that overflow 

My passion has already won what you continue to suffer through

If only you would take a minute to contemplate what my wounds have done for you 

Your misery does not hinder my merciful tide 

For on the cross it flows from the lance which pierced my side 

Oh child, how your efforts please me; do not be afraid 

For I see every movement which your heart has made 

Why are you so afraid of what I have commanded? 

You say there is a lack of my presence, but my presence was never demanded 

You perceive me as though I am not there 

It is in the secret depths of your heart that I lay bare 

My child, I need you to know once and for all 

I am not an obstacle placed to make you trip and fall 

I have been here waiting to share my suffering with you 

To show you that no one can understand your suffering the way that I do 

Consider who it is to which your heart is so closely bound 

The one whose love never changes; whose love can not be confound 

My beloved, my only wish is that you allow me to give you my best 

My agonizing Heart pouring boundless mercy from the wound in my chest.

The Panic

There is always that one breath, that one moment, I like to describe it as my warning sign

When I know I’ve pushed it down for too long and there’s no more time 

I feel this tightening building right in the middle of my chest 

In these moments I know I can pull through for a little bit longer at my best 

However don’t ask me to do anything with my hands because there is this uncontrollable shake

Its my bodies way of telling me “My dear there is not much more we can take” 

It’s like a white surrender flag being waved on a battle field 

It’s saying to me you’ve fought so hard, but the battle has been lost. It is time to yield 

Succumbing to the fear is ironically the most scary part 

I never know for certain when it will end, but I always get to see it start 

It positions itself behind me, and my shoulders come together as I feel its breath on my neck 

And I know when I turn it won’t be there but my heart is racing telling me to check 

My eyes shut as I let that familiar tightening take over 

It is still my body but I no longer feel like it’s owner 

I feel like I am trying to claw my way from the inside out 

But as the crying starts and my throat tightens no one can here me shout 

I feel myself crumbling and I know I need to start putting myself back together 

But it feels like someone handed me the instructions in another language and said “Fix it and also make it better” 

It’s like drowning but needing to drink water at the same time 

I’m being pulled in two directions but my body is being forced to stay on a thin white line 

I can’t catch my breath until I stop crying, but I can’t stop crying until I catch my breath 

I wonder if this is the type of panic that ensues at the doors of death 

That type of panic of not knowing if I will ever see my family again

But it’s stress from the life of family that brought my anxiety from a six to a ten

Life is currently contributing to the darkness, or the absence of light

And Death in its horrific beauty pulls us in closer making it harder and harder to fight

“Daughter, I Thirst”

I look up to your face and see your lips moving. “Daughter, I thirst.” 

But this overbearing whisper in my ear tells me “How can he possibly be hurt?” 

“Daughter, I thirst. Please.”

But I’m convinced that if I wait just a little bit longer your crying will cease 

“Daughter, I thirst; that is my desire.” 

But I know if I take one step closer to you I will be engulfed by an unquenchable fire.

“Daughter, please. A drink that is all that I ask”

Well if that’s all, I guess I can commit to such a task. 

But before I can move, the guard picks up the spear and stabs it straight through my chest

He brings to your lips the heart plucked from my breast.  

You do not drink but you breath into it a final breathe. 

You say “It is finished” and come face to face with the doors of death

Now I am left at your feet with a heart that feels a longing pain

The wounds have healed but there is a never ceasing strain

I hear a voice, “Daughter, what can I do? Tell me now.” 

But I don’t think I could even articulate to myself how. 

“Daughter, I gave you the words already. What is it you require?” 

I am then satisfied with an unquenchable fire as I say

“Father, I thirst. That is my desire.”

Your Yoke Is Easy

Lord I’m standing in a crowd 

I know at any moment you can draw me out

The minute the guards call my name 

I am to be united with you in a bloody embrace

But Lord how will that cross feel when it hits my back 

The feeling of my bare feet hitting my seemingly predestined track

You say your yoke is easy and your burden light 

But is that just your comparison based on your might

I can feel you walking next to me ready to shoulder the weight

But what is the point if I am going to wait and see how much pressure my bones can take 

You whisper to me that this is not my cross to bear 

But I can’t hear you over the sound of my lungs gasping for air 

Why would you want to help me, when I have disobeyed you which is the highest treason

But you look at me and say “Daughter, the last thing I need to love you is a reason”

The weight of this cross brings me to knees 

But what I didn’t expect to hear from you was your heart wrenching pleas 

“Let me carry this with you, child console my heart”

“Don’t let the weight of this push us further and further apart”

I lean into you allowing you to shoulder the weight 

Who would have thought in that there could be so much strength. 

I now feel like a toddler taking their very first steps

I am still learning to walk with you through these new depths 

My cross is still there and it’s splinters still press and poke 

But Lord how grateful I am for this easy yoke