The gifts

The gift I got to be today was quiet. The aches and pains of tearing quiet. So funny how that is. So true is the joy I have and yet something tugs at me.

I understand but I remain resolved to just let it go. No harm in trying to dig deeper because then I seem to over analyze all.

Funny but not really. It is just how more and more distant I feel towards people and yet I surround myself. The comedian, the giver and still no one really sees passed the cheer. No one really sinks in the empty sockets.

Just their merry way. Strength I pursue to keep moving. The just moving is determined. I have to see positive on all fronts. Yet some days just giving up appears to be ideal.

Then..

Then I remember I MUST keep going. To let the emotions of me take hold is WRONG! I dare not let go of the bar, the standard of who is remaining. 

This small child. I seek to find protection.  I do have it. I have felt the love on many occasions.

Yet..

Yet this small child thrusts herself into a woman. Behaving as ice so no one CAN look deeply.  So no one can even guess just how empty, scared and desperate she is.

Still I am her, the scared child and the cold maiden. We are same. Does anyone experience the changes, the misconception of Mary?

Of course not. That requires time, effort and depth. Indeed many have stepped back, rolled away and even have run a distance so as to care is irrelevant.

Yes this does hurt.  Yes this affects. Yes this helps build the guarded wall. Yes.

But..

But I still remain. As much as the distance, the clouded view and the storm persists I still am seen strong. Never would anyone hear my tears nor see the depth of my sorrow.

Only Jehovah.

That is how I remain. Standing firm when falling down is the only answer.  The flimsy reed still clinging to the rocks as the river bends and cracks it. I am battered but I remain.

That is the gift I get. That is the love I give.  So forgiving is HARD. So very hard. Still I give it because Jehovah knows my heart. He knows my just how much I can endure. Indeed I persevere.

I look closely to the weathered appearance of my shell,  of my coats, my layers. How do I just build? How does the smile Crack when the tears hide behind sky blue?

How?

How do I keep pressing forward when the very core of me is fighting against me, how how? Then why vibrates throughout.

You see I have been torn. I have been used. I have been assaulted. I have been hated. I have been killed.

So my spirit knows just the ways to cling to that one special string - Jehovah. The hope. The forgiving love.

This is why when the war between me and you, me and all others wage I have to see the positive. I have to be happy no matter the outcome. I have to continue.

And..

I do. Just a little bruised. A bit sore but smiling. That is how I must be.

So what if I seem cold, unnerving and downright misunderstood at least I know why. No one else ever has to worry why, nor go to distance to care because Jehovah does that for me.

That is just how life has to be.

Would I ask you to care? No. I would only hope. Never really saying anything but hoping.

And if I get torn in the midst at least the understanding is that I have learned another way to endure. I cannot be pessimistic in any aspect.

Even when I am being stabbed I still move. A small bit of determination. So dare you I do, to see the tiniest blessing in the biggest negative outcomes of your life.

Yes I DARE YOU.  See the gifts. The stories that help build. Maybe even the people that push you up. Would you even notice?

One day maybe. One day.

Perhaps.