Monday, May 27, 2013

Reflecting on the Earlier Days: Leaving Home

I must have written this right before I headed off to my freshman year of Multnomah. It's sprawled across a piece of notebook paper:

the clock ticks
as if each tick tightens
my stomach
You say "Don't Worry"
i'm too invincible to cry for help
And too normal not to
be nervous.
to leave all.
who do i be away?
it's all new; or will the past
follow and destroy
what could have been.
how do i say no to falling stars
i may have ignited?
the burning brilliance
must die and me
And sometimes it seems
only in Fairy tales
do dead things
again live.
change my heart.

I had no idea the pain ahead of me nor the healing that would come for the pain behind me. "He makes all things beautiful in His time."

His time is not my time.

Heartache is one of if not the worst types of pain . . .
 . . . but He wounds to heal.
. . . and He allows to make us look like His very own.

And someday, those of us who are His will all stand healed. Maybe we'll wear the battle scars, but we'll be healed.

It's coming.