Becoming Me

A stranger within

Refusing to dig within the walls of

Your very skin.

But how long must this go on?

Until your at the end

Of this cycle.

It must be so hard to look around,

And be so critical

Of yourself.

But tell me this…

Do you compare a work of art

To that of another?

Or do you admire it for what it is?

But what is it?

Can it be described?

Can you find the words to explain something so rich in depth…

Is it even meant to be understood,

Or was its purpose always to simply


To be loved for simply existing.

To not have an expectation to heal a wound inside your soul,

Or teach you a valuable lesson,

Or to earn a living,

Or provide some knowledge.

It was never meant to be used,

But just to be.



Lord, help me get back to reality.

I feel stuck inside this fog of memories,

That cut deeply to the core.

My words are stuck inside,

Can’t seem to find a reason.

I’m sorry sir, but I’m no fool,

I’ve just forgotten how to cope,

With the many insecurities

That wound.

So judge me with the eyes,

That deeply touch my soul…

Oh, damn I’ve burned the food again,

Must be too far down the well,

Inside my head.

That’s like balancing on a strand of frets.

My mind’s a web,

Like a sticky one the spider spins.

When a thought comes racing through,

It sticks to the road map like glue.

But I won’t apologize,

Even when I am so frail and needy.

Being close to you is what

Keeps me breathing.

I probably should call my mother,

Instead of wasting time

Sitting here thinking of so

Many reasons why.


I look through a window of


Wondering why I can’t come out

The hiding place

I peer out and look around

And I smile back

But sometimes

I get bitter

And question why it isn’t I

That can relax

And live a life

Without a care

Instead, if I let go

Something may break

But the only thing that ever breaks

Is me

But the wound


Is never wasted,

Though each time

I have regret,

And break myself a little


You say, “how can I help?”

But deep down

I know

That those are empty


That will float on

Like the balloon

In a cloudless sky

Never bringing back

The prayer that was sent out

So I stay here at the sill

Just waiting

To be seen


“My heart it just ain’t right,
But I try with my might.” -Elle King

Heard these lyrics in a song and they stung. But in a good way. I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling like my heart just ain’t right.. and sometimes it’s easy to recieve grace and move along.

Other times though, feelings of guilt, confusion, and insecurity take over. A sense of being lost as to how to get back on track creeps in. It sort of feels like a wheel that’s stuck in super thick mud.

However, thank God for the gift of wisdom and being able to be awakened by awareness of “the why”. Even when the answer doesn’t totally make sense….external circumstances are inevitable, but in the past being able to rise above situations out of my control and keep going was not a huge challenge.

This time has been different.

This overwhelming presence of resistance has sat into my heart that has been difficult to shake. With it, I’ve judged myself. I’ve felt guilty for being down, for not having the faith to just brush it off, and for telling myself I shouldn’t be in this place.

I’ve judged others for having these picture perfect lives without ever having to (in my mind) struggle.

I’ve held onto resentments from past offenses or unmet expectations that have literally made my body ache.

I’ve compared my life and progress with those who’s stories aren’t meant to be mine.

And through this I am learning that I am slowly losing myself.

Losing some joy,

Some hope,

Some direction,

Some love.

And my spirit has felt that wound.

But I am not alone in experiencing a heartsick experience like this.

And in order for healing to be welcomed there must be an acceptance of:

1. This is where I’m at and that’s ok.

2. My journey is my own, no one else’s.

3. Most things are out of my control.

4. In order to get this wheel moving once again, I’ll need some help.

There also needs to be a “letting go”.

1. I’ll need to let go of the gas pedal…

2. I’ll also have to be willing to remove the objects, thoughts, and limitations as to what got me stuck in the first place.

3. And finally, letting go of the expectations I place on myself and my relationships… the voice that tells me I should be in a different place that I am.

Because I know if my foot keeps flooring the gas the way things are going right now, I’ll make an even bigger mess. One that would make life messier for myself and everyone around me.

Yes, my heart ain’t right. But with my might, I try. I search. And for those that value the Word, it says to ask, seek, knock…We must “die to ourselves” in order to have the life Jesus led. Die to our need to control, to fix, to compare, to understand all, to judge and condemn. Die to the things that harden our hearts and prevent us from being our naturally, free selves.

Our hearts our sick. We don’t truly know what we are doing or who we are all the time. We don’t know how to handle this beautiful, messy life. We don’t know how to truly love one another. But we are more than capable of learning. Applying. Changing. Transforming. Not perfectly, but in a way that makes a stubborn wheel stuck in mud move a little further. We must be open. We must be humble to acknowledge this and accept spiritual direction from something greater than ourselves.


Muddy puddles,

So cold and flat.

When jumping in them,

They go splat.

Smoky rooms,

Inside my brain,

Squinty eyes that burn,

From strain.

Winding roads,

With no directions.

Getting lost,

Without intention.

The neighbors cat,

Has got my tongue.

Where are my words?

They never come.

What did you say?

Can you come again?

It seems as though,

I didn’t comprehend.

My feet are stuck,

In the quickest of sand.

With no desire to move,

And no desire to stand.


She hands You her paddle,

Moves her hands to Your feet.

And cries, “Mighty waters crash over me.”

Fear from the current,

Can’t be much worse than the fight.

She prays to discover,

A new freedom from the choke hold of control.

But this requires a letting go…

From the things she was taught,

And the patterns that she knows.

She is her own being,

Not responsible for anyone else’s feelings, chaos, or victories.

The current was not hers to bear,

But the battle was in braving the unknown path,

All on her own.

What a terrifying thought,

This lonesome journey,

Of detaching from the intitities that she never considered harmful.

This left a lingering feeling of guilt.

But she couldn’t deny the insanity,


And fatigue of the fight upstream.

Was it desperation?

Or was she slowly transforming into more awareness?

Was she beginning a path of recovery,

Or surrender.

Possibly a mixture of both,

Or maybe they are one in the same.

There are many things she doesn’t know.

And that’s okay.

But for certain the paddle in her hands has left her tired,

From baggage of mixed emotions,

Unanswered questions,

And turmoil of the waiting,

Without the energy to keep going in the same direction.

Failures from attempts to paddle without reason or focus on where she was going.

The feeling like she could handle it.

But she gives up,

By giving in.

Giving in to the uncontrollable…

As each wave engulfs her, she will relax into the abyss,

Believing that wherever it takes her, is where it takes her.

And she will find peace.