A glimpse into the chaos.
My brain is fuzzy
foggy
and I need to just admit
that I cannot be productive
right now.
As much as I want to be
and have a compulsion to be,
I am physically
unable.
I just can’t do it.
And I
HATE
it.
My sin is paralyzing
Deep and ingrained
I feel unworthy
Lost and ashamed
My faith is true
I believe in You
But I can’t reconcile
My beliefs with what I do
Can You still
Use me?
Can you still
Want me?
Can You still break through
My pride and anxiety?
I know
You have not completed me yet
It’s not about me
It’s about You in me
Through me
In spite of me
You are my identity
Will I find You
At the end of me?
You are already working
At the core of me
Shaping me
Breaking me
Chipping away at
What shouldn’t be
Until glimpses of You
Begin to show through
It’s not about me
It’s about You in me
Through me
In spite of me
You are my identity
Will I find You
At the end of me?
Who am I
In You?
Who am I
Without You?
When I can’t feel You
I will follow You anyway
I will trust You anyway
I will praise You
Thank You anyway
Even when I feel unworthy
Lost or ashamed
Even when it feels like
You could never love me
Your truth remains
It’s not about me
It’s about You in me
Through me
In spite of me
You are my identity
Will I find You
At the end of me?
Will I find You
At the end of me?
*Inspired by The Anatomy of a Disciple: So Many Believers. So Few Disciples. by Dr. Rick Taylor and Walking With a Limp by Brad Bell
It’s not relaxing,
not really,
unless the relaxing
is able to happen
after the impending.
Trying to force it
ahead of time
only compounds the doom
of what ‘s coming.
Sure, to some minor extent,
it helps to be able to disengage a little
if possible.
But I can’t ignore
or turn off
the dreaded known.
I need to be able
to put the draining stuff behind me,
get past it
in order to actually
relax.
Work hard
hard
harder
push, push, push
go
do it
do it
do it now,
then play
or relax
for real
after.
It jumped.
It’s set in motion.
It’s gone.
It is ready
to be on its own.
It was time.
This has been strange
and peculiar
because I am in it so deeply
and I’m so protective over it,
but it’s not even mine.
I hope my part in it
improved the clarity
and understanding
because what I really want
is for people
to
get
it.
And now
<gulp>
it’s real.
You make me wonder
what is wrong with me,
why I can’t be the me
you want me to be,
and you can no longer find
anything right in me.
I still believe
you retain the you in you
even though you are now
the you you grew into.
Despite your claims,
I have changed too.
I’ve grown and progressed
in ways you never knew.
But I don’t think
I will ever be
the me you seem
to expect from me.
I’m not sure
I could ever understand
this flippant, pale
version of you,
this hardened you
you’re trying to be
so you can pull away
and feel free.
But you keep reminding me
I never knew you
apart from me.
I wonder
what’s so right in you
if you really can believe
your desires supersede
every little thing you do.
And I wonder
what’s so wrong with you
that you no longer
even try to see
the me deep down inside of me
or remember the you
you used to be,
who now makes sure
no one ever sees
the you everyone cared for,
loved and knew.
Your words are icy
and your interactions few,
forcing the remains of us
apart from you,
pushing us even further askew,
and creating separation
from the me in you.
It is purely
a curiosity
a blurry inkling
of a daydream
from words that may have only
been flippantly spoken.
Nothing may ever happen.
Nothing may ever amount to anything.
I’m not even sure
if I would want it
or be good at it.
But if
the opportunity were there,
wouldn’t it at least
be worth looking into?
If the prospect existed,
would it
could it
drastically change things?
Would the
possibility pros
outweigh the
logistical cons
of what I might have to give up?
Though intriguing,
I may be getting ahead
of myself.
But the curiosity
has a strength
that is not easily snapped
or even bent.
I’m admittedly
ignorant.
Not by choice.
Probably mostly
by way of
proximity.
(I think.)
Whatever the reason,
that’s not the me
I want to be.
I think I tend to innately see
more similarities
than differences,
so I relate to you
on that level,
and I don’t tend to think
about what I don’t know
of you.
But there is more to you
than our commonalities.
I need
to be aware of
realize
acknowledge
the differences too,
because they fill out
the bigger picture of you.
And I want
to learn more
discover more
connect more
engage more
so I can fully know
understand
and
appreciate
you
for the whole you
that you were made to be.
Asking for what I need
seems selfish.
Needing something
that is just
for me
outside of
what is generally expected
or assumed
from everyone else
seems like special treatment
that I don’t deserve
over anyone else.
I hate needing something different,
but I can’t just force myself
to not need it.
I was prepared
with bullet points
specifics
options
alternatives
and
possible responses
to potential issues.
I was even prepared
with backup
for a next conversation
if this one didn’t go so well.
Looking for a good opportunity,
I waited,
watching.
When I saw my chance,
I forced myself to restart the conversation
again
and it was received
openly and
graciously.
I didn’t have to start
back at the beginning.
I didn’t have to defend myself
or try to hold my ground.
In the end,
more was granted
than I even asked for.
Things are not only resolved
now,
they are resolved
long-term.
I was suddenly
out of the holding pattern
that kept me from
moving past this,
and I let out a huge breath
that I have probably been
holding in
for at least the last year.
I left grateful,
and with a greater respect,
and I am glad that I can finally
mark this conversation off
as completed.
The accusation was blatant
and directed,
and immediately,
I was eight years old again.
A teacher was yelling at me
and I was 90-95% sure
I didn’t do anything wrong,
but his accusation was so
intense
that the guilt
seeped into me
from every side anyway,
and I started to wonder
whether I may have actually done
what he claimed I did.
I went wide-eyed,
as if on stage
with no lines memorized and
no words coming out of my mouth,
and I started questioning everything –
my recollection
my worthiness
my character.
Then I got angry
at being accused of something
I didn’t actually do wrong.
Then I questioned everything
again,
wondering what I could have missed.
What if I really did screw up somehow?
Or what if,
after all this,
I really didn’t do anything wrong,
and ultimately
that still didn’t matter?
What if I would be
assumed wrong
or defiant
or passive
or whatever the conclusion was,
even though none of it was even true?
The panic
anxiety
anger
and
confusion
were all bad.
But feeling
devalued
was far worse.
I felt small,
buglike,
hunched next to the ground
with my neck craned,
looking up into the sun,
waiting for impending authority
to smash me
into non-existence.
Take a deep breath
before
the busyness
craziness
obligations
start to take you over.
Breathe in
the clean
sweet
crisp air
and
experience the short
cool respite
from the thick heat
before the cold begins.
Listen to the children’s laughter
their excitement
the silly amusement
disguised as quick
comical screams
of hilarity.
Smile.
Have a bite – or two –
of candy,
and just
take the evening in.
Take the refreshment
and let yourself
have fun
without feeling guilty
or
embarrassed,
compelled
or
forced,
or
like you should be
doing something else
productive.
Simplicity
offers you
much more than it requires
in return.
Allow the time
to be redemptive
and
restorative
and
accept the small gifts
you have been given.
