A story emerges
A slow story emerges from a broken wall. Ticking check marks off in succession. The clicking of a tongue as the memories pour out.
I grasp tight to my waist. Clinging to hug deeply and stand up. Not proud of my past but still it is there. A cold beginning and a heated middle. Yet what of the ending if still occurring?
The distaste of acid lingers in scars upon my spirit and dividing my soul. Those are days I cannot take back. Yet that is how I learn. Adjusting the middle pieces of a wartorn life to the abundant possibilities echoing throughout the times current.
All I can say is that if it were not for Jehovah reaching out, I don't think I would have ever found peace, completely within. I lost. I dissected all parts of my black past. I even stabbed myself with the harsh truth. Recognizing my past has to be a part of me now.
It was the ONLY way to see that Jehovah forgave me. I am not above him. I must forgive myself. And as I am ever changing I have to realize that time away to reflect was the least hypocritical thing to do.
For my life was living as a hypocrite. I even judged. Who am I to do such a thing? I have absolutely no power nor perfection to achieve such action.
So with that struggle to complete inside my mind, the darkness of my childhood bled throughout me. Dank. Molded. Corrupted. Disturbed.
And yet Jehovah wanted me back.
For that is a shock. Why is that even an objective? I still cannot wrap the idea in my head. Then the "I" became less and less. Not much a focus on me anymore.
The tattered, scorned old me dealt with the consequences of my actions. Still doing so in the best way I can. Each day I grow.
And what of this blackest,checkered life now? A slow process of putting the shards of glass that was me before all tainted me. The months of therapy, the research of life and bible principles and the life altering changes that just halt all parts of my cravings.
Truly a journey.
But do I think I have achieved what I set out to do? Oh no. There is much work to be done. Each day has a sense of urgency. Each second of my life is precious and yet I am grateful for everything I am part of.
The story is dark, twisted and broken in areas. Yet I am still moving and leaning upon all that I know is true, Jehovah.
See I sharply turned away all because I had much to divide. I wasn't sure how to. Yet now, I do. Each day is a new one. I struggle but Jehovah's words are being absorbed.
Mind you, I did skip reading the bible a few days. And I feel as though I lost decades. Perhaps that is goodness to experience in these days.
And the story that emerges now is the journey I am on. Steps are leaps some days and others they are a grain of sand. Yet each one made is progress. Jehovah knows that. For me, that is all that counts. Until another change is given.
For now I am grateful for the goodness in the day. And you? What are you grateful for in a story?
I grasp tight to my waist. Clinging to hug deeply and stand up. Not proud of my past but still it is there. A cold beginning and a heated middle. Yet what of the ending if still occurring?
The distaste of acid lingers in scars upon my spirit and dividing my soul. Those are days I cannot take back. Yet that is how I learn. Adjusting the middle pieces of a wartorn life to the abundant possibilities echoing throughout the times current.
All I can say is that if it were not for Jehovah reaching out, I don't think I would have ever found peace, completely within. I lost. I dissected all parts of my black past. I even stabbed myself with the harsh truth. Recognizing my past has to be a part of me now.
It was the ONLY way to see that Jehovah forgave me. I am not above him. I must forgive myself. And as I am ever changing I have to realize that time away to reflect was the least hypocritical thing to do.
For my life was living as a hypocrite. I even judged. Who am I to do such a thing? I have absolutely no power nor perfection to achieve such action.
So with that struggle to complete inside my mind, the darkness of my childhood bled throughout me. Dank. Molded. Corrupted. Disturbed.
And yet Jehovah wanted me back.
For that is a shock. Why is that even an objective? I still cannot wrap the idea in my head. Then the "I" became less and less. Not much a focus on me anymore.
The tattered, scorned old me dealt with the consequences of my actions. Still doing so in the best way I can. Each day I grow.
And what of this blackest,checkered life now? A slow process of putting the shards of glass that was me before all tainted me. The months of therapy, the research of life and bible principles and the life altering changes that just halt all parts of my cravings.
Truly a journey.
But do I think I have achieved what I set out to do? Oh no. There is much work to be done. Each day has a sense of urgency. Each second of my life is precious and yet I am grateful for everything I am part of.
The story is dark, twisted and broken in areas. Yet I am still moving and leaning upon all that I know is true, Jehovah.
See I sharply turned away all because I had much to divide. I wasn't sure how to. Yet now, I do. Each day is a new one. I struggle but Jehovah's words are being absorbed.
Mind you, I did skip reading the bible a few days. And I feel as though I lost decades. Perhaps that is goodness to experience in these days.
And the story that emerges now is the journey I am on. Steps are leaps some days and others they are a grain of sand. Yet each one made is progress. Jehovah knows that. For me, that is all that counts. Until another change is given.
For now I am grateful for the goodness in the day. And you? What are you grateful for in a story?
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