People wonder about my writing. They question what am I doing? Wasting time on this blog, and wasting time on my book. The ones who never read my poems, let alone, know where to look.
They see me with no signs attached, dollars, that is. My value and worth, somehow, have been placed in their hands. They don’t care about my worth.
So why? Why have I placed my value in their hands? Dreams and aspirations slipped from my own to theirs. People who care enough about giving me their opinion but not much else. People who couldn’t care less about what I’m doing at 2:38 a.m. in the morning.
Even those who care about me, the ones closest to me. They might care what I’m doing at 2:38 a.m. but they can’t stand with me.
They can’t flow through my thoughts, my dreams, my feelings, and hurts. Limitations, they have. But it is HE who truly knows my worth.
He’s stood beside me in the shadow of the night. He’s torn down the veil and allowed me, encouraged me, with a boldness to even approach God.
Silent cries He hears. My tears He collects. Nothing goes unnoticed. I AM ALWAYS RECOGNIZED BY HIM! He always has time for me!
He started as a flicker. A candle to my darkness. Though the outside of me was cleansed, the inside, far from it. But the more I felt His presence, saw His hand in my life, I knew He was deeper than the stories I’ve heard and read with strife.
The confusion and the pain of being misunderstood, He UNDERSTOOD! Though I was young, He never laughed when I asked Him to be my Teacher! He BECAME my understanding!
When no one understood me, He did! Pushing me forward with His strength alone. It is He who hears me in the morning light. He who sees me when I’m hidden away from sight.
My candle, my flame, has become a raging fire. Consuming all the darkness. Roaring with His might against the lies. My Lion, my fierce warrior, a Prince who refuses to give up. Multiple veils and curtains He has torn and cast out from me. Against the fear, He whispers gently.
I look behind and I see the seas He’s split in two. I feel the earthquakes as He tosses mountain after mountain into the waters. Electric static engulfs my body against the darts of the evil one, and I can sleep under His wings.
People, I love, are dying. People, I love, are depressed. Those who I love don’t know Him. The bills await me. The fears linger. The world is dark.
Yet, He stays with me. He lifts the pain and fear. I may not have all I would desire. The things I think would make me feel secure or “happy.” But He stays with me.
He ministers. He speaks. He roars. He cleanses. He rebukes. He weeps. He rejoices. He glorifies.
He became MY lampstand! He is MY center! Every road and journey I walk, He’s gone before. He is now. He will be there.
My example. My King who, on bended knee, reaches MY level of weakness.
I won’t apologize for disappointing you. I’m not sorry for the rebuke. It’s a shame we disagree, but I won’t bend when it comes to Him. The One who fights for me, I desire to fight for Him. To love like Him.
I don’t have the money. I don’t appear the way you want. But I am submitting, and He has provided. He is the provision, and He gives provision.
You don’t know the number of people He’s affected and influenced using me. You probably don’t care. Well, I DO! The countries across the world that have heard His truth and what He is doing in my life. That’s something more powerful than money will ever bring me.
His glory. He used me, someone who amounts to nothing without Him. HE USED ME FOR HIS PURPOSE BECAUSE HE LOVES ME!
He’s stronger than you. He’s better than you. He cares about me more than you EVER will. He understands the depths of me better than anything and anyone on this earth or universe. The dreams and aspirations I’ve somehow let slip into your grasp, I TAKE AND GIVE TO HIM! He’ll do far greater works than you ever will with them, anyway.
A Savior whose hands were nailed uses my hands to write. A Savior whose side was speared aches my soul in life. A Savior whose head dripped blood from thorns used His blood as ink.
The very blood I write with comes from His feet, His hands, His crown…His cross. A burden He buried for me. He arose in creating new life for me. A beauty only the purest eyes can see at work.
He signed my name in blood. Spilled for all the world.
Against my wretched life.
Against your pathetic will.
I’ll write for Him, if for only Him.
Amen. (So be it)