I used to believe in innocence. When I was a little girl and then I turned six and I learned the world was a much darker place than I had envisioned on the kindergarten playground riding my tricycle round and round.

That should have been the beginning of my distrust of men but I hid it away in the recess of my mind so that I could go play at recess outside without the memories of what he did to me. I convinced myself his intentions were a fantasy and he never meant any harm to my dignity.

Well eighteen years later I was sure I had forgotten the damage my sense of belonging was built on. I fell for someone.

Only a few weeks passed before his hand went down my pants and I didn’t stop him. Believing that this was what I was destined, to be a prop in his story of satisfaction. I argued it was fine because some day I’d be his bride never realizing that when he looked at me the only word he thought was “mine”. Not “my love”, not “the answer to my prayers” but simply an object that was there. For his benefit. While my heart suffered neglect my soul wrestles with discontent. And I don’t want you to see me cry because if you have the audacity to ask me why I will tell you. And then you’ll stop. Because there is a conscience within you. But if you respect my boundaries and refuse to touch me then I will feel undesirable. Funny how that which once scarred me I now cling to.

You see I took this identity the world gave me and named myself worthless. And I decided that my purity was something that could be purchased with the right word or slightest of smiles.

To have and to hold take on new meaning when the holding is clutching and the having is property and I no longer know what it means to be me.

Who is she? This once little girl who dreamt in naivety that one day her prince would sweep her off her feet. Well all the prince’s horses and all the prince’s men couldn’t put this broken little girl back together again. Not when her life had been wrecked by the wages of sin.

And there it is. That three letter word so often mistook for “men”. See men are not the problem. It’s sin. It weaves its way in and out of the lives of male and female alike. Convincing us we are no greater than our biggest lie.

You see that tormented little girl didn’t need a prince. She needed a King. So she ran as fast as she could and began endlessly searching for the One who could end her suffering. And she found him. Hanging. Lifeless on a tree.

How was it that this great warrior who was supposed to contend for her had been defeated before she ever even found him. Her sorrow poured out as she bathed the wounds upon him.

With no where else to go she turned into the storm and prepared to step into the tempest when suddenly behind her she heard,

“My child, I loved you at your darkest”

He had given his life as a wage for the debt to be paid so the world could be free. And then he came back for me.

This poem. These words tumbling forth. They’re not just about the girl I was when I didn’t know my worth. They’re for the men who did me wrong. The ones who believed the devils sly song of who they were as well. He convinced them to buy all the masks he could sell. To cover up their calling of protectors and rebrand them as takers until every bit of honorable man was buried underground. Well I’ve been digging a long time and there is an honesty to be found.

I cried out for so long for those men to truly see me all while ignoring their desperate attempts to be seen. To be told they could be better. Encouraged to live with honor. I look into my future and I decide to be “her”. The one that forgives. The one that pulls away the facades these boys have been given. I take a deep breath. I reach for the hand of my living King and He names me clean. Then He turns to my abusers and we name them free.

Well I thought this was my beginning

I stood out on the precipice and stared into my future glory, imagined the accolades and all the people moved by my story. well…

Well I think mistook the initiation for the end because now all I see is regret behind me.

I’m not sure how the story unfolded but all I know is I don’t think I was the one turning any pages. I wanted to stay awhile. Sit here in the pauses between punctuation where I could create my own plot and cast of characters but it turns out you were the one wielding the pen. Well…

Well I tried to steal my words back and turn them into a weapon. Something to craft my retaliation for your supposed sabotage but for all the pages I wrote, nothing much was said.

You see I blamed you for my emptiness, screaming that you took everything away when it was I who wrote myself out of your story when I tried to control the narrative.

I didn’t like the character you had made me. I found her weak and left wanting. Insecurity chained around her neck like a noose of inevitability, kicking away the bucket in her attempt of escape. Well…

Well she found that vulnerability was no device to hang by but a rip cord to set her free. No longer suffocated by her own expectations, she could finally breathe.

I gave the pen back. I give the pen back, for you are wiping the pages clean. Let’s write the verses in harmony, for you and I as one were always meant to be.

My body is a bomb shelter. Containing explosions that save the world and erode my insides until they are unrecognizable. Throw me your hand grenades without fear. For I will save you. My walls are thick and fortified, built from self denial and undying optimism. They can’t be crumbled from any threat on the outside. While the interior slowly deteriorates with the murky residue of supposed martyrdom trickling through misplaced hope.

I thought it made me stronger, taking on everyone’s tragedies like all they needed was the hero I could be. Give me your pain. Give me your struggle. Give me your hatred and let me shoulder it alone. Save yourself and run while I hold onto what I can. It’s in my hands. They are capable and willing. Unaware their strength is dwindling with each death grip. My muscles weaken under the pressure so I hold tighter. Pile on your pain so I can distract myself from my own.

I watch for the smiles and flashes of gratitude with every gun shot bang, but all I see are the backs of heads. Because I did my job. I took the hurt so they could walk away. Maybe I should have asked them to wait.

If only I could let go, maybe it would be myself I could save.

How many times have I seen this sign and never stopped to wonder why

It hangs on the walls outside offering warmth and a comfortable night

But maybe just maybe it's my own heart that shuts off the light

To those wanderers in need of some hope for life 

How many times have I decided I simply have no room

For the souls who have no place to

To lay their heads down and hold onto something true

I brush them away saying it's not what I'm used to

Except that I am. I encounter it ever day

Someone guiding me in giving me a warm place to stay

Not just for the night but for my broken way 

Of life that desperately needs some repairs to be made

So how can I look into their forlorn eyes and shrug and turn away

They're just like me

Wanting a life that's real and contains a little peace

Just enough to keep me going without falling into complacency

It doesn't take much to look beyond their eyes and see

That within my soul I hold the key

To open up my doors and tear down the walls 

That keep everyone out far enough I won't hear their calls

But to listen to the voice that's inside of us all

Whispering we need each other in order not to fall

Into a world within our ourselves

Made of our ideas of what keeps us well

When deep down we all know it's just some story we tell

I want to stop this lie I've been trying to sell

That I don't need you. That you don't need me. 

I've lived too long to be unable to see

That the best thing I can offer to the world for free

Is a wide open heart displaying Vacancy

For too long I've been told to wait. 

"There will be plenty of Saturday's for that"

"There's plenty of time for that later"

"I'll say what you need to hear, just wait"

Where are my Saturday's? Where's my plenty of time? Those words I so desperately needed now fall from your lips, only to grace someone else's ears. 

I don't want to wait. I don't want "I've wanted to do that for months" to turn into years, to turn into someday, to turn into it's too late. 

Call it impulsive. Call it reckless. 

Call it living. 

Was there ever really a story

That was meant to be told

By the grace of our two mouths

As together we grew old

Or did you know from the beginning

It wasn't meant to be

But you felt too sorry to admit

The story wasn't for me

I think you really did try

If only just as first

I only wish I'd realized sooner

Your effort you didn't think me worth

Why did you keep me trailing

Falling ever deeper still

While all along your feelings

Were losing all their thrill

Why won't you let me love you??

My lungs gasping for air

In the face of soul killing rejection

My heart wrecked with despair

You fought for every other girl

What was so different about me

That you didn't take a second glance

At what was once our eternity

What made it so easy 

For you to turn away

And never spend a bit of strength

Pleading I take your name

My soul cries for answers

You never could provide

Too afraid what you might say

If ever you had tried

Our stories no longer woven

My self alone again

Left only to imagine

The beauty that could have been

All the lies that I hear

All the whispers in my head

Telling me I won't make it

I better give up instead

It's far too challenging

Halt while I still can

Choose an easier path

They'll find a better man

It's not worth my time

I'm not enough anyway

It costs too much money

Find a simpler way

I've got to stop listening

To the negatives I hear

Push past their expectations 

Say no to my fear

Where did it come from

These limits on my worth

It's not something I came with

From the moment of my birth

I'm capable of far greater

Who decided anyway

That I wasn't made stronger

Than their feeble minds can say

I must decide not to listen

To discouragement and jest

See I have something to offer

That doesn't come from all the rest

Of those who thought me nothing

More than a sweet girl

But I've gotten something wild

Dearly needed by this world

I will stand up and say

My voice must now be heard

It's time to silence the doubters

Show the power of my word

It takes just a moment

For me to finally see

Those voices telling me I couldn't

Those voices were me

Let me be clear

It is not that I wish to not exist

To be overlooked or squandered

Or found wanting in the midst

Of a sea of endless faces

Expressions all the same

Facades so carefully crafted

Nothing much but a name

I do not want to be hidden

Amongst the wreckage of lost souls

Safe amid the mire

Countless stories untold

It isn't easy to explain

This conflict within my grasp

This wrestle I keep living

This tension I hold fast

For I wish to be known

In the simplest of ways

For one to see my heart

By the look on my face

It's my biggest fear colliding

With my meekest of requests

To be seen with such clarity

I find I must confess

That I wish to be visible

Not to the bustling crowd

But to the ones who view me even

Not those who must look down

So when I say, "let me be clear"

Let's get one thing straight

Please don't look right through me

But gaze upon my face

Take a moment to consider

The person just beneath

The surface that now hovers

Between you and me

You have an opportunity

To let me be known

For who I truly am

For the beauty of my soul

So pause for just a second

Do not shy out of fear

Search far beyond my words

When I beg, "let me be clear"

Looking at my life, what do I see?

A girl who no longer looks like me

She's born out of fire and etched in stone

A strength and a courage

Running through her bones

No more frailty in her eyes

No quiver in her voice

She stopped asking permission 

She decided she had a choice

To mourn the life that'd happened to her

Or grab the chance for new hope

To say no to the enemy

Choosing not to walk alone

To not accept mediocrity

Chase after all that she dreams

Believe there is better in this world

Than the brokenness she sees

To create a new beginning

Rippling with belief

That her God makes all things new

That she doesn't have to sit in grief

Certain there's always more

She waits with purpose and moves with intent

Searching for what is good and beautiful

No longer willing to be content

With settling for less 

Than her Creator purposed

To hold Him to His promises

To offer her very life in worship

Of the One Who saved her soul

Who loved her at her darkest

Who crawled in the pit beside her

Said she is much more than worthless

He whispered his affection

Poured out His pursuit

Breathed new life in her lungs

Formed her strong and resolute

He put her on her feet

Gently set her going

Till she could walk without stumbling

Then told her to run

To chase after goodness

To seek out beauty

To be a light in the world

For all to see

He called me by my name

Told me I am clean

I am not my mistakes

I am not what's happened to me

I am a picture of hope

Of all that can He can do

With a willing and open soul

With someone hurting, someone like you

Who thinks they have nothing left

Only to discover so much more

Than they ever thought possible

Never thinking He had in store

Something we thought impossible

More than we could imagine

Realizing he's much bigger 

Than we could ever fathom

Looking at my life, what do I see?

A child who resembles her Father

A girl who looks like me