I am ready for….

I am ready for….

I’m ready for the world to hear me. I’m ready to stand up and speak the words of my heart. The words that were formed within me, and were waiting to be birthed. I will not be silenced, my story will be told. I know that people will try to “fix” me, and think that I am lost. I know that they will tell me I’m wrong, and have a million and one bible verses to jab into my forehead with tacks, as if I am merely an empty corkboard, needing to be filled with reminders of who they think I should be.

This will not stop me. No one can. Because I am ready. It is time to take off my cloak and reveal the wings on my back that have been hiding for too long, folded up against my skin. Unused. Useless.

I am ready for the bridges, the connections that will be made in revealing my stories, and I am ready for many of the old bridges to be torn down, so that I cannot be invaded by attacking forces.

This doesn’t mean that I am now invincible, and that I will be free from hurt feelings and the pain of my very self being rejected by others. It means that I’m ready to deal with all of that. Sometimes it will hurt a lot, but most times...I will remember that this is good. Because I will be able to breathe huge, deep breaths, no longer chained or boxed up, but free.

I’m ready to be who I am, who I need to be in every moment. I’m not the same. I am always changing. I will not be defeated when too many challenges threaten to beat me down.  I will rise up! I am strong. What I am doing is what is right for me. No one else has to approve. Only me and god. Only me and Love.

Where is he calling you to risk right now?

Relationships? Maybe He’s calling me to risk relationships. To test them, see if they can withstand the barrage of truth, emotions, and life! To see if friendships will last when my friends see the real me. All of me. The me who no longer nods and smiles when people talk to me about things I totally disagree with, but the me who says “I hear you, but I don’t agree, and that’s ok, because we don’t have to be the same to stay friends.”

What am I really risking? Am I really so close to those people I call friends that I will miss them if our friendship ends? Or am I really risking my vulnerable heart. My feelings.

To stand tall, like a tree on the top of a mountain seems like risking everything, but in reality, maybe it’s not as much of a risk as I thought. Maybe I forgot that I have roots. Roots that go down so deep that I cannot be torn down or blown away by the hot air blasted at me by those who think that since we disagree, I must be severely wrong.

Is he calling me to risk, or is he calling me to dance? To sway with the cool breeze he sends me, and let my branches dance and sway in the wind. Not weak, as some might perceive swaying to be, but strong because of flexibility. Not stiff and steadfast in the wind, coming ever closer to the breaking point, but instead gently leaning and bending, refreshing my view of the world from each angle the wind guides me to.


I wrote this in response to the writing prompts given to me during a write-in with Story Sessions. It was my first write-in, and I loved it! I came away feeling refreshed and loved.

Why I no longer attend church

So, I know a lot of people wonder why I don't go to church anymore. I know I don't have to explain myself, but I'd like to be able to let my friends know, so they can understand me better.

When I go to church I feel like god is in a box there. I feel like it's all closed up, and that I am expected to follow a set of rules, and behave a certain way. I don't like that. I don't like identifying with just christians. Since stepping away from church I am realizing that I can find god in unexpected places. Did you know he's sometimes in the movie theater? I met him there yesterday. I also found him at panera yesterday morning. He met me there for coffee. I heard him talking when a teenage boy spoke fondly of his younger brother. I felt his arms around me when my son ran up and hugged me. I saw him smile when the sun came out. I heard him laugh when a little girl told her grandfather a joke.

I don't believe that the bible is 100 percent true. I don't take it all literally, but churches and churchgoers do. I don't like sitting for 30 minutes listening to one man's opinion on a passage in the bible. I don't like singing songs praising america, and I don't like singing lame songs that have wimpy lyrics and melodies. I'm a musician, so I know quality music when I hear it. I'm also a poet so I know the beauty found in words, and I can see the lifelessness in cheap songs that are cranked out one after another. I have heard songs I like in church, but that is the exception, not the rule.

The reality of it is, I don't like who I was when I was a churchgoer. I think because that wasn't really me. That was someone who was squashed into a chevron patterned box, with a hot pink ribbon tied to keep it closed. Perfectly dreadful. I cut up that ribbon and burned the box. I couldn't breathe inside of it, and even though I still felt god there, it kind of hurt, because I'm not square-shaped, and I thought he wanted me to be.

Turns out he doesn't! I happen to have an hourglass shape, and god, my love, thinks I am beautiful. I'm able to meet him everywhere because I'm not folded up and in pain inside that box anymore. I can think and see more clearly, and I can also question everything under the sun! I don't have to have answers all the time, but I love asking questions. Kind of like a child.

It's funny, because I know that some people who read this will be somewhat pissed that I didn't capitalize god. They might think I'm going to hell because I think I'm all that. Seriously, that is funny.  I'm not afraid of god, and I never will be. I adore him, because he adores me. I respect him too, but that's because he respected me first, and to me respect=love. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be right now. I may not ever return to traditional church, and that's not wrong. It's just right. For me. Because god? He's all I need.

PANVOCANTA (unfinished)

Paint the words of the

world from that place

in your heart

Where the healing begins

and the restoration starts.

In the vast chasmic 

depths of the turning

of the earth.

Seeing beauty make holy

revealing our worth.

Placing hands over wounds

that were hiding

in the dark.

Speaking pain with our lips

where our skin still bears the mark.

There is hurt there is

fear in the moving 

of the crowd.

So be still and you'll hear

All The Voices Singing loud.

Inspired to share this because of a prompt in the Story Sessions group I am a part of.