break me
Father, years ago, I asked You this question: Why do I resist change? Why do I resist becoming more like You? I had been confronted by a friend who nudged me toward surrender, who encouraged me to trust in You more.
And I didn’t want to hear it.
Father, you know I dread being told that I need to change. I dread being told I should go to You and ask you what you think. I resist not because I don’t think it is a good idea. Rather, it’s because I fear, in surrender, I am messing up somehow.
And I don’t like to mess up.
And I don’t like being told what to do.
And I especially don’t like someone telling me I am messing up and I need to surrender something in me. Rather than listen to what they have to say, I I want to deny I am doing anything wrong. Instead, I want them to change to accommodate me.
Ugh. Even when I am hard-hearted, You love me. Oh, You are so amazing.
In the garden of Gethsemane your Jesus bowed and surrendered. He modeled complete trust in you, complete surrender to you. Jesus shows what it means to love you. What it means to be your child. What it means to know you are here and you are listening and you want to know how we feel about things.
I know this: my rebellion stems from the same pride that Satan had when he rose against You and wanted to be better than You, thinking his way was best. He didn’t want to get any closer to You; he wanted to remove himself from your presence because he didn’t like being told what to do and he believed he was smarter and more beautiful and wiser than You.
And I am doing the same thing as Satan did when I turn away from wise counsel and I use harsh, rash, unkind words in an attempt to fend off the person who loves me and believes, for me, it is good to pursue change?
Father, here is my confession then: I am the rebellious daughter who wants to come home. I am the prodigal, the one You love and think is beautiful, the prideful girl who needs to fall, who needs to get low.
Take me like this, will you? Your will not mine be done?
And in his presence, I am before him, on the ground, a heap of rags in a background of turquoise and shadows. He stands before me, a Father who faces his daughter and knows that sometimes it isn’t words she needs to hear.
Sometimes, she needs to be allowed to cry at his feet, to be given permission to let her tears fall over him. She is unworthy, and she is loved. She is broken, and she is mended. She needs to pour out her heart to the One who knows her and adores her, despite her wretchedness. For she is loved by the One who loves. And she is remembering who she is.
He bends low to touch her face, reaches his hand underneath her chin. She knows He is asking her, with his movement, to raise her head, to look up. So she does.
She does.
She does.
For the Loop Poetry Project prompt this week, you are invited to do simply this: write a poem from your heart–your heart in its beauty and its wretchedness, in its sorrow and its confidence.
Use story. Use description. Use images. Use metaphor. Do whatever you need to do to speak what it is saying. This is what we need, as poets, to write again and again and again.
Much love to you,
Jennifer
6:30 Saturday morning
I held his body when
he tried to stand
plant one foot then the other
like he was brave,
like he knew.
Seventeen years later he
soft steps into the bedroom
to borrow a helmet, sunglasses, pads
and I rise
the deep intertwined to deep.
I hover around the kitchen
while he scrambles eggs
and sits to eat,
washes his dishes
returns the pan clean to the cupboard
like it was always there.
I follow.
Until he steps out,
the mountain bike on top his car,
to drive past the front window
where I stand.
I watch his location on my phone
the first two minutes
and I fold inward.
You are always welcome here.
29 Comments
Permalink
I’m sitting in a dark cloudy place
Broken and in pain
I can’t hear or sense you at all
Are you there? Do you care?
Friends come and go
Valued but busy
With their own busy lives
Who is with me as I cry alone
Broken and in pain?
I used to find comfort in knowing
You are with me, love and hear me
Why does the ceiling feel like the boundary
Through which my cries cannot be heard by you?
Did I do something so wrong?
I remember things You said before…
Can I even gather enough strength
To believe them again now?
What is this?
A tiny glimmer of hope:
Though I can’t trust me,
I can trust YOU in the dark!
One day I’ll walk in the light again.
Permalink
This poem has particularly touched me as it reflects my own personal journey at this time. Thank you for sharing
Permalink
Thank you Sarah for your encouragement
Permalink
Thank you for sharing. Thats me this week as well.
Permalink
Thank you Anita. It the first time I’ve written a poem in 30 years and it describes the last few months. I’m encouraged it helped anyone.
Permalink
I have been THIS so many times in life, thank you for putting it to words.
Permalink
Me too Cindy. Thanks for your encouragement
Permalink
WOW SOOOOO BEAUTIFUL TY GOD BLESS YOU
Permalink
Stacy, I am so grateful for your sharing here. Such beauty and power in your vulnerability. Thank you.
Permalink
This so reflects where I am right now. Wondering if God is near, can He hear me? Feels/sounds as if you have been sitting here hearing me as I cry out to Him. Thank you.
Permalink
Love this❤️
Permalink
I’m lost, yet know I’m found; my heart mind and spirit in turmoil.
On this matter Lord, I don’t know what to do. I know I need you to come and wrap me up in your arms, to tell me that you have it already under control; and in my heart that still small voice is saying Be still and know that I am your God. So why do I continue feeling tense? I don’t like change that springs upon me; I need to know you more Lord, to Love you more and to trust you with my whole heart,I need you so much, help me Heavenly Father I pray; increase my faith my courage and wisdom. Save me yet again, thank you for hearing my prayer In Jesus name Amen.
Permalink
Amen. Thank you for sharing your deep prayer.
Permalink
So much beauty from brokenness. Thank you for your beautiful words speaking directly to my heart and soul.
Permalink
Thank you, Debs. Amen.
Permalink
Everything was perfect. My heart was full and my son was home. The One carried me through each long day and up again the next day. I had no time to think of trouble. Or to get into any
Until I got sick. Then I ended up with two weeks of nothing but troubling thoughts. And troubling actions. I started to drink. And My son got carried through the storm again.
But this time was different. I knew I could ask for help. I knew God had better plans than my own wreckage for me and my son. I knew that I didn’t have to sink this ship again if I just Reached out and asked For help.
So I did. I learned from You how to be a good mother. I learned to put his needs before my own, even if that meant consequences I didn’t want. I took advice from my friends who loved us both and only wanted what was best. I stepped out of my own way for once, and listened to God.
The pain of losing my son again so suddenly after him coming home was unbearable. The shame that I carried was like no pain I’d ever felt before. But this time was different. This time I knew I could ask God for help. I begged for relief. I begged for his love again and in my heart, my faith in Him and knowing he would never forsake me, carried me through to the other side. I took suggestions and put action steps in front of me. And within a weeks time, I felt better than I felt a month leading up to this relapse. I felt a new connection to God A new faith in Him and his mercy and grace than I had before. I felt truly transformed.
God intervened and reminded me that I need to surrender to Him daily. Without Him I cannot successfully do Life, but that’s ok with me. He was given me so much and since I didn’t get the small nudges He was giving me reminding me to come home, He (as He usually has to due to my stubborn nature) had to throw a brick at me instead.
Today I am grateful for my relapse. As I now have the renewed faith in the Lord for bringing me out of a darkness. A darkness I thought I’d never feel again. A feeling of depression I thought I would never feel again. He very quickly Reminded me that without constant surrender, I will fall. I have such a strong desire today to seek Him. And for that I am grateful
Permalink
Thanks for sharing Margot.
You are brave and not alone.
Permalink
Dear Margot, what an honor it is to hear your testimony–your story of your choosing Him and what happened when you did. It is so very encouraging and inspiring–helping me to see His face and lean into Him now. Bless you, sister, as you continue to let weaknesses be your strength. He is our strength!
Permalink
tired
empty
burnt out
standing
walking
trying
struggling
looking
looking
looking
lost?
stuck?
frustrated
angry
sad
scared
praying
reading
pleading
praying
praying
praying
WAITING
Permalink
Monica, thank you. How powerful to see how waiting is not a passive state, but an active choosing of Him. Bless you. I am so grateful you shared this here.
Permalink
It’s not about me. It’s all about you
The time has come. You will set me free…
Open my eyes to what YOU see.
The door swinging open to what is new…
I am blessed by all that YOU do
The sun is shining, dawn is breaking
My heart isn’t groaning from all the aching.
Piece by piece YOU make me new.
While I am waiting on my breakthrough
Permalink
Hi Bridget, I love your sharing the push and pull of the heart. Oh, I can relate to what you share here. Thank you.
Permalink
You are welcome!! In this season God has started to give me poems here and there and I’ve been praying for more. I have decided when I get enough that I will write a devotional to go along with them. He has definitely been working on me.
Permalink
He committed a crime
One that shattered the fragile pieces
Held together by faint hopes
She made a mistake
she lied
Out of fear and shame
She hid the endless pain
Ready to edure on her own
But everything submits to the light
Washed by His blood
The courage needed to right the wrong
A hopeless soul turned hopeful
Permalink
Joy, thank you for your poem. I love the storytelling of it–and the hope we remember through your words.
Permalink
Sleep, that is all I want.
But God wants more.
He asked me to wake up and spend time with Him, but I didn’t.
He asked me to pray with Him, but I didn’t.
He asked me sing to Him, but I didn’t.
He said, “Good night my sweet child, I love you and I will call on you again tomorrow.”
I hope I listen to Him tomorrow.
Permalink
Sarah, thank you! I so appreciate the reminder of His unfailing love!
Permalink
My heart and flesh fail me daily
I need God to save me
To shape me
To show me
To grow me
To know me
To show me what life can be
And live in better understanding
Even when my flesh saddens me
God shows me who I can be.
Permalink
Shattered broken into pieces
Lord I am all torn up
Unstable
Disappointed
In a disarray
Don’t know which way to go
I cried out to you Lord over and over again
Please hear my cry. I need you, I need you now
Lord Help me