Creation

You try too hard.
You try way too hard.
Just sit and wait.
Sit and listen to me.

I'm not quiet. I'm not whispering.
I'm not yelling either. Nor screaming.
But I am talking. I'm talking to you.
Cause I love you. And cause you're awesome.

You're amazing. Because I made you.
I made you. Science didn't make you. Man didn't make you.

I MADE YOU!

I LOVE

What a sweet fragrance. What an amazing joyful sound. You bring me joy. You make me glad. Your earnest wanting of me; my love, my heart, my voice - brings a smile to my lips.

I sing sweet blessings over you. I love to bless you. I love to protect you. I love your weakness. I love when you allow yourself to be vulnerable before me. And when you are fully exposed in your nakedness, I pick you up in my arms and wrap my endless love around you; filling you with my breath, my strength.

I fill every nook and cranny, I fill every dark place with light; I chase every demon away. They have no chance compared to me.

Remember I am stronger and mightier then the torturer.

Bondage.

I envy people who can express how they're feeling; people who openly verbalize what they're going through. They say what they’re thinking and hold nothing back. They tell you their emotional state and how it’s affecting them. They’re not ashamed to let others know.

Sometimes this can be too much information. Some people overuse this self confidence. But people who can find the happy medium - I envy.

I envy people who can put into words what’s bothering them.
I envy people who can freely speak.
I envy people’s boldness.
I envy people’s confidence.
I envy - their freedom…

Their freedom of not being trapped by words.
Their freedom of openness.
Their freedom of liberty.
Their freedom of wholeness…


I envy people who aren’t trapped in their own skin.

Sometimes I feel like I’m a captive in the enemies’ camp. I’m trapped and tied down. I’m in bondage and can’t wiggle. My mouth is wired shut and no matter how hard I try to cry for help - I don’t make a sound.

I can will myself until I make myself ill, and still, my lips won’t budge. My entire body shakes with wanting and desire to speak, but I cannot part my mouth. Puddles of frustration gather on my eye lids; and I can’t – I just CAN’T.


I’m trapped; trapped by my silence...


I’m tapped.
I’m alone.
And - I’m scared.