Fragile

I’m fragile

Oh please, be careful?

If I am pulled too hard, I’ll snap

If I am bended far, I’ll break

Or so I think.

 

But I realize

I’ve been bended

And I’ve been pulled

Every which way

And here I am

Still here.

It hurt,

But I am stronger.

It stretched me,

Made my endurance longer.

I know Your hands are careful,

And You’ll not let me break in two.

You’re simply weatherproofing me

So I can stand the storms.

So when the wind comes,

I won’t fall.

So teach me, LORD, to trust You.

Although this work may hurt and sting

I know that through the pain

You strengthen and You sanctify.

 

Maddie, 2018. Originally published on my other blog.
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I will endure

I don’t know when this storm will pass

But there’s one thing I know for sure:

That Christ my Lord will hold me fast

And in His hands I will endure.

Liberation

I feel the weight of this world upon my back,

It is too heavy for me to bear.

I look back on my early years,

Oh, those days when I was more free—

Curious about every little thing;

Learning about the world and how it works.

Oblivious to evil and immorality,

Not excessively burdened by stress, sin, or suffering.

That was me, back in the day—

Hardly a care in the world.

I didn’t know about murder and racism,

About poverty and dying people,

About spiritual warfare and the heaviness of sin

And all the hardships of life.

I was asleep, yet happy.

But why, when I reached adolescence,

Did the real world hit me so hard?

The knowledge of sin and suffering and evil came

And threatened to make me bitter,

Depressed, isolated, if I would allow it—

Causing me, in a panic, to build a fortress around my soul

So that nothing would hurt me.

I reached adulthood, it didn’t get easier.

The wall is still up, though I go through phases

Of tearing parts of it down, only to patch it up again

And I wish I could crumble it completely.

Where is the freedom I once had?

Where is my childhood innocence,

Not having a care in the world?

Why is the world such a scarier place?

Why did my life become so hard?

But, what if the loss of this so-called freedom,

This seeming innocence,

Was the means by which I would find another—

One new and more perfect?

Not a sort of “freedom” in which ignorance is bliss,

In which I am ignorant to the turmoil of this world,

But a difficult freedom, stripping me of happy oblivion

To open my eyes to the fact that I needed something more?

What if this seeming loss of freedom—

This introduction to pain and suffering—

Was indeed my liberation?

What if all the sleepless nights, the heavy battles,

The tears, the agony, the loneliness, the struggles—

Were the means by which I would at last be free?

What if Someone knew I needed Him,

And placed these hardships in my life so that I would find Him—

He, Who loves me with perfect love,

In Whom there is fullness of joy and fulfillment?

What if all the doubts and questions

Were what would cause me to dig deeper,

And to at last find what I am really looking for?

Because really, is oblivion freedom?

Is not knowing about sin freedom from it…

Or enslavement to it?

Is happiness actually happiness

If I am unaware of where I am headed?

…If I am hellbound?

And so I was, but didn’t know it.

So now I thank my God

For the loss of this jovial unconsciousness,

This falsely-happy sleep,

This intoxication of the mind,

And for using hardships and harsh realities

To tame my wandering soul

And bring me to Him, where I at last find freedom.

And although life is not easy,

And many battles will still be found

And many tears will still be shed

And many nights where I will lie awake…

This freedom that I have now—

Conscious of sin and darkness, yet, no longer a slave to it,

Aware of this world’s pain, yet bound for a new one,

Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing—

This is BETTER freedom.

A Rock

While stormy clouds come billowing

With anxious eyes I watch the sky

And think I cannot outwit this

Approaching tempest, and I cry—

for help! because my shelter is

A flimsy structure, built on sand

And if I hide in it, the rains

Will not let this poor shelter stand.

And then it comes, the waters drench

My skin, and I can’t take a breath

From all pressure coming down

Upon me—Oh, it feels like death.

This weary rain, these fearful winds,

That shake the soul and chill the skin.

This storm! Will I come through alive?

These winds! This rain! Will I survive?

And I cannot stand long enough

Until this downpour passes on.

So I collapse beside a rock,

The one firm thing to lean upon.

And it occurs to me that I

Had never thought it best to hide

Within the clefts of this large cave,

Where I’d be sheltered, dry, and safe.

Though strength is weak, I climb this mount

And soon escape the deathly fount

And safe at last, I wait until

The storm clouds clear, and all is well.

So may I never trust again

In shelters built on shifting sand,

But, Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

Oh, may I hide myself in Thee.

Friendship

Beautiful friendship.

We were made to be social,

To thrive in community,

To want fellowship,

To love someone

And be loved.

And when we are loved so undeservedly

By someone else

And get to love them in return,

We get a small, imperfect glimpse

Of our Father’s even greater,

more perfect,

love for us.

Fling Wide These Doors

Notes surge; I feel my soul arise

As if carried by butterflies;

A thousand prayers to God my King—

“Oh, thanks for all You’ve done for me!”

I can’t contain this joy inside.

But sometimes, still, I tend to hide

Behind closed doors to dance this dance.

This secret heavenly romance

Must not be secret anymore.

I must fling wide this bolted door,

These walls that hide my praise, destroy;

And, though no singer, sing for joy.

 

Oh, Father, please, enable me

To not be shy, but set me free

To sing and dance and laugh aloud

And tell of all Your mercies, how

You’ve changed my life and given me

A new dance for these hands and feet

A new song in my mouth, to sing

The glories of You, LORD, my King,

And of all that You’ve done for me.

Unhindered, may I dance, freely.

Words

These words, with wonder, make me seem to fly

While gravity, an anchor, stays my frame

And thoughtfully I gaze up at the sky

As I with bliss enjoy each word and name

That mark each page, creating melody—

No tune they make, but music nonetheless.

I see my Father’s creativity

In how, with gifts of words, He would us bless.

 

My Father’s like a poet, making poems

That one can read by seeing with their eyes—

The lofty mountains, and the crashing seas;

The myriads of stars that fill the skies.

 

LORD, as I revel in this poetry,

I pray that YOU, the Author, I would see.

Forward

As I look back on my mistakes

And feel remorse, please give me grace

To turn from these sins and repent

And not repeat such base events

But leave them all behind, and see

That life is better when I’m free

From thoughts and deeds that slow me down

Since rather quickly I must run.

To win this race, I must move toward

Christ, my Savior—ever forward.