slipping by | pt. 9

dear september —

i. paralysis… worry and fear paralyzed me. oh no, Father… not again. but yes, it seems. yes… again.

iii. pride… pride got the best of me, and i could feel it. i was running on a performance cycle rather than a serving heart. i wonder if hamsters get exhausted once in awhile or maybe that’s just me.

iv. memories… bowling alleys and bbqs. cannolis and laughter. lighthearted conversations, but also bittersweet ones. sitting on the pink carpet, posing for a last picture, with our faces forlorn – all i think about is how dreadfully short life is and how whatever we have now we won’t have forever.

v. mr. nice guy… i understand now. my heart cringes at every menacing act and now i’m just as fired up as before.

v. voice… gonna help you find your voice… 

vii. prayers… when you realize the prayers you utter for someone else become your heart’s cry too.

viii. midday encouragement… i had one person in mind, but when God gives you an idea, he likes to make things as big as he can. so out it went. and wow God. it is more blessed to give than to receive. 

viii. wifey… you helped me be myself tonight. you filled me with laughter and silly antics until we had to be shushed. but girl, if i had to be shushed for once, it’s a good sign indeed. in fact, you made me feel safe. and most of all, you helped me break loose and be free. free to finally be me– in a place that’s supposed to be home and feel like family. and for that, i thank you.

viii. victimized… i feel like the victim. she broke down, and all of a sudden tension broke loose. and i got so annoyed when he came over and invaded my personal bubble. there is therefore no condemnation… 

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they happened so long ago. i thought i had stuffed them down, scrunched them like paper to a ball and thrown them far beyond my eyes could see. yet they're all of a sudden coming back… like a boomerang. all flooding back.

those pen-inked stains of my wrist when i wrote the date across the top right corner of my journal – when all i felt was a weak dullness in my heart and words became my comfort. there was a time when those heavy hearted dates were permeated across my forehead. they left their mark, and i thought that mark would never leave – always at the front of my mind. but they did. slowly but surely, those inked markings began to wear away. they no longer shrouded my thoughts or trampled my spirits. and yet today i see numbers. the numbers i thought i had erased and moved past from. they've come again. all flooding back

slipping by | pt. 8

dear august —

i. our love for each other broke loose as we ventured into greater depths and allowed ourselves to look into into the heart of the other.

ii. he whines and drags his feet, sending her voice to rise and fall with increasing intensity, then snap. and there i sit, bending to accommodate, but whispers cloud my brain. missing out; disregarded; alone; not special anyway. turmoil boils within me. should i have gone? i will never know.

ii. anxiety rose and despair bubbled from within me. things that ought to have been were no longer there. and yet that thought pops up – practice faith instead of projecting with fear – and gives me peace of mind. when disappointments and stress abound, you were my comfort.

ii. she is upset with me. i did it out of love, but i feel she didn’t feel it in return. oh, to think that there will be a time when i will no longer be your mate as i have been all these years. let’s make these times count, dear. i’m sorry.

iii. living a love does life requires daily surrender and conscious effort. thanks for showing me how i need to make love an action verb and not just a state of being.

iii. i feel bleh now that my heart is stable. now i’m not okay with being okay. and life moves on…

v. in the midst of lows and discouragement, you gave me words to say. you put a song in my mouth. you planted seeds of truth that just kept on flowing. and it felt beautiful… and oh, so freeing to be a vessel of assurance. it was not i, but him. keep speaking truth…

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slipping by | pt. 7

dear july —

ii. we talked about our feelings about the upcoming week. and he leaned over and said — hey, it’s gonna get better. and sitting side by side, my heart felt light. and for a second, i was sure that indeed it would… get better.

ii. names were called and a bullet went through my chest – sinking deeper and deeper, causing the already scarred walls of my soul to bleed all the more.

iii. you showed me how to risk being vulnerable and to open myself up to others. now, she is a safe sister i can vent to and one whose words are so quotable i write them up for keeps.

iv. i’ll be brutally honest and say sometimes my heart spills over with fury. but somewhere, in that wee little corner so far and yet distinct whispers that tugging command… to love.

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slipping by | pt. 6

dear june —

x. belly laughing until you’re gasping for air — the best kind of nights.

xii. i love you… the best three words given and received.

xi. he asked me if i was generally happy with my drawing, to which i nodded. he asked, “how about in life?” to which i was taken by surprise. thankful for little reminders to always stay positive.

xiv. my world was rocked upside down. i felt shattered. alone. broken. i could scream forever and still not be okay.

xiv – …. thanks for being there. for being “a ray of hope in my heavy and dark world”. for “paving the path to my recovery.” for listening. i still go back and read your words when i feel like i can barely hold on.

xvi. thanks for your gentle presence. for not saying anything superficial to fix things, but always being there to listen.

xix. thank you for my twinnie. she is in tune with the Spirit and on fire with You. she constantly and consistently points others to Christ. she listens, and when she speaks, it is Christ through her. thank you for her love and her courage to speak the Truth even when i didn’t want or know it.

xx. my stomach wrenched. i wasn’t sure how i would survive that day but i did. standing there, my toes wiggling in the sand … i wished it all away. i wanted to drown, to die in the waves. the sea – it called me home. but somehow, someway, that call was not answered that day.

xxiii. thank you for sisters who drop everything to make it all better. who can tell when something is wrong before i even have to say it. thanks hon for spurring me on, for lifting my head, for telling me that everything may not be okay, but it will be okay someday. you are so strong. you and me – we will keep plowing ahead. one step after the other.

 


and when the night is closing in, don’t give up and don’t give in. this won’t last, it’s not the end. you’re gonna be okay. 


ps. 28.7, 2 thess. 3.13, ps. 105.4, is. 26.9

slipping by // pt. 5

dear may —

xii. something sprouted in the garden. a newfound desire, an unquenchable hope. barefoot, my toes wiggle in the goodness of the fertile soil. arms high, i receive the refreshing pouring out of rain. i’m free, i’m free, i’m free to dance and sing

xiii. in the midst of chaos and unexpected worries, his gentle command retuned our hearts to center. why don’t we pray. with open hands and heads bowed low, we called out for deliverance. for revival. for courage. sitting there, in the garden, something beautiful had manifested and taken root.

xiv. her random love notes fill my heart to overflowing. grace comes like a wave crashing over me. the fact that we’re still friends at all is a miracle in itself. so hon, no need to apologize. because really, we’re still going strong by nothing other than the wonders of his love and grace. i love your beautiful soul with every fiber of my being.

xviii. for unanticipated conflicts and frustrations along the way, you taught my heart to tune to yours. in the quiet of the day, you reminded me to live out the very words we were proclaiming.

xviv. here’s to heartfelt, bittersweet goodbyes. my spirit is unwilling to let go. so instead let it be farewell. farewell to beautiful soulmates and gorgeous gems. farewell to treasured mentors and sisters who hold your hand in the darkest of days. farewell to missed opportunities to be that someone for someone else. farewell, till we meet again.

xx. ‘i’m sorrys’ and ‘i love yous’ calm my fear and anger as tears stream down my face and scars sting as they fester in my battered soul. and here i say to you: i’m sorry.


i know the night won’t last, Your word will come to pass. my heart will sing Your praise again. Jesus, You’re still enough. keep me within Your love. my heart will sing Your praise again… 


jer. 32.26_27, job 8.21, ps. 24.7_10, 1 samuel 15.29, daniel 4.35, ps. 63.1_8, ps. 27.4_5, ps. 31.21_24, ps. 86.5_6

slipping by // pt. 4

dear april —

iii-vi. you’ve shown how sometimes the highest of highs foreshadows times of brokenness and weakness. moments that cloud my head with pain, that heave my chest with despair. you’ve shown how every death leads towards a resurrection. you gave me just enough strength to endure.

vii. thank you for wonderful conversations in the middle of the unknown. your marvelous hand was over it all, and it’s so beautiful to see. sometimes we just have to look back to see everything lead up to direction. it is in the things of the past that shape us and lead us into everything good and perfect of what’s ahead. and i think that this day might make it into the books of the glorious life ahead. because it sure was an amazing one. dare to dream. dare to pray. dare to believe. ❤

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