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.

Across the Broken Fields.

so, let's see.
i already have a xanga [brokenfieldspoetry] but maybe i'll stay over here. =]
i like, no, need to write. i'd curl up and die if you took away my paper and pen. so, that's what you'll see here. poems, songs, ramblings.

let's start here. i wrote this a couple weeks ago, before school started. and nothing much has changed since then. one high- but then came crashing down as usual. now i'm stuck here. apathy, maybe? or oblivious? i don't know. but i'm thinking i don't like it.

Rag Doll

A rag doll, tossed in the ocean
Beaten by each oncoming wave
Swept from current to current

I drift in and out of consciousness
Never knowing what is fact or fiction
Never knowing who is friend and who is foe

I'm thrown around like dead weight
Known as a 'thing'
No longer human

I hold my breath, reach for the surface
Hoping to find a ray of light
Maybe hope traced in tears

But I only fall further
Hitting harder each time
Each breath coming closer to death

When will it end?
I cry
Why do You not respond?

One can only take so many thrashings
Burdened by the guilt and the shame
Most could never stand long

I scream, "Rescue me"
But any hope returns empty
Bouncing off the hollow walls

Why do You leave me here?
Why must it happen?

Is this some cruel joke?
Because I know I can't survive any longer.

-kadi.