An Enduring Patience

Eyes open, you’re on the floor
Some might call this an epiphany
A revelation of sorts
But, really, you’re just happy to be alive.

You clench your fists, then hesitantly release them
Symbolically letting go of what you’ve clung onto for so long
Over and over, the same forced motion
Yet it never makes any difference; you just aren’t ready.

You cry out for a savior, even though you still hold onto your vice
You’ve given it up before, but you fall harder each time.
To some, God means love, safety, hope, and grace.
To you, God means pain, failure, hurt, and fear.

Torn, you decide it’s time you’re honest.
You tell God you can’t leave it behind.
You’re scared of what might happen, it’s who you are
So you take it back up, leaving the cross in the distance.

“I won’t force it upon you, that’s just not what I do.
But I’ll still love you. I’ll still watch over you.
So if you decide you want me, I’ll be right here.
I’ll be waiting for you. I won’t be going anywhere.”

That’s who He is. Maybe someday you’ll recognize Him.
He’s patient when no one else around is.
And He’ll stand here with His arms open wide
Waiting for the day you call His name.

kadi.

Regrets. Guilt.

Regrets suck.

Guilt is no place to live.

This is nothing I should know.

It's the Christian thing to not regret and mindlessly repeat the phrase "let God use your mistakes." ...Or something like that. To believe in a grace and trust that there's no reason to feel this guilt. It's all blanketed in a sense of forgiveness.

I know it's true. But it's another thing entirely to act like that, and not just say it.

I do a decent job of not regreting. I screw up. Beat myself up a bit. Sometimes more than I should. But give me a day and I can move on. At least most of the time. Except for this one. No matter how many sunrises I receive, it's all the same. That same regret that promises to haunt me and remind me of that Sunday afternoon back in May. Everytime I see those scars.

Sometimes I wonder. What if no word came out of my mouth that I didn't believe for myself as well? Like all of this about grace and mercy and truth and honesty. I don't think I'd be talking or writing as much. I don't think any word would form at all.

I've been told, I've heard so many times to not regret and not live in such a place as guilt. But when it comes to this, it seems just about as possible as me waking up in the morning to find no scars and my life just like it was not too long ago.

kadi.

They Can Be Saved. What About Me?

You know what I want more than anything right now? To believe that God can save me.

I'm falling, and the only direction, it seems, for me to go is to keep falling. You'll hear me tell countless people to not give up, don't give up on God, keep believing. You read my words that say we are never too far from God's grace. Heck, I just wrote something for my youth group's blog talking about forgiveness and what not. That should be up by the end of the year. And you know what? I believe every word I typed for that blog. I just cannot believe it for me. For the people I pass everyday on the streets, I believe any one of them can be "rescued", "saved", "forgiven". I believe with all my heart that anyone can begin again. Anyone, but I have a hard time counting myself in that.

And it sucks. By now, several people who always thought I was a strong Christian, realize now that I'm not so much. But I've still got my youth pastor... He asked me to go on a mission trip this summer to South Africa. I accepted. But maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe it would have been smart to stay home a year. And he looks at me and still sees that strong Christian girl. I don't want to, I can't let him see otherwise. I feel so fake. But...

I don't know anymore. I really don't.

I don't know who I am. I don't know what I believe. Or who I believe in.

Other than this god I've made for myself. A god that leaves scars and bruises on my skin but brings me relief I can't seem to find anywhere else.

Please Lord, don't look the other way.

kadi.