There is something to be learned from the raw identity of an unedited poem… Something to be said of a newborn covered in afterbirth & insides like an inverted secret that speaks of innocence & of a master’s love & of Lord I’m available, use me-- God has a thing for unfinished pieces… for imperfect beings, for broken vessels & the like so in a world that thrives on excess & too much, there is a God that operates in the counterculture of knowing you are not enough.
She’d been absent for some time... A freelance writer squandering her inherited gift on those undeserving of her words. She was too loose with her anointing. Too reckless with her heart; she’d let too many wade into her waters unworthily & it’d begun to leave a ring around her river jordan insides/ she was a prodigal daughter caught between the world & her father’s home, frozen in time only by her own coldhearted refusal to forgive herself/ she couldn’t see how God could extract the venom that coursed through her veins more naturally than her own blood/ couldn’t see how her past could be immediately reconciled in exchange for a future with him/ not realizing that trying to fathom the heart of God is like trying to fathom gravity… like trying to understand the reason why the stars don’t rain down on us like the wrath of God on the unjust/ baby you can’t hide behind the mediocrity of your past life forever… /can’t hide behind this gift & chalk it up to your own talent/ at some point you have to step into your role, dive into your calling no matter how hard or unattractive it may be/ no matter how unpopular it may make you & in spite of what they may say, trust me you are worthy to be used/ your transgression can be your testimony if you would only step forward to the witness stand/ I know your heart is heavy… lungs filled with the thick humidity of regret & fear, breath cut short by high altitudes/ but only because you put yourself on too high a pedestal to let God use you/ really who do you think you are?.../ how arrogant do you have to be to believe that your past is insurmountable?/ I understand your pain & how it weighs so heavily on your soul but how dare you have the audacity to remain stagnant, to regress even, to blatantly refuse to move forward? How dare you deny God the pleasure of blessing your life? After all he’s done for you… you have the nerve to take up residence in the quicksand of grudge & doubt/ I know you’ve found comfort in this immobility… sought solace in this stagnation…/ but just as Jesus called out to Jairus’s daughter—I call out to you & your dormant spirit “talitha koum”… “my child… get up”/ Wash your face & straighten your back/ Break loose the glares & words & fear that held you for so long/ take up your bed & walk/ Shake the dust & debris of bitterness & guilt & failure & heartbreak & death & unbelief/ brush this dirt off of your boots & let the wind carry these burdens where it may-- this heaviness is not of God/I know you’ve been hurt/ I know you’ve been cast-off & handed down but you have to understand that brokenness is not the end of life/ see you can’t build up what hasn’t been broken, the master cannot finish a work that is already done/the people cannot relate to perfection-- He cannot get into a closed heart & so sometimes it has to shatter for his light to reach into those dark places/ move forward into the light & see just how beautiful your broken is… tear down your walls/ let yourself fracture & fissure & come undone. See God has a thing for unfinished pieces/ your “not enough” is just enough for him, trust me on this one. .. take it from the girl who was so coldhearted she used to bleed venom… my child you are worthy to be used… so I charge you tonight… to get up. What God has for you is indeed for you, in spite of you. Stop trying to complete yourself, before you finish yourself. & remember, God is able to move most freely, in those of us who have already been broken in.