Poems

Recently the Lord unlocked a gift for me. Something I never saw myself doing. 

Something I still kind of giggle at the thought of. 

Poetry.

And honestly, I don't really know if it is classified as poetry. I've just been writing what I hear and it tends to come in fragments, similar to poetry. 

So, with that being said, here are two poems the Lord has given me in the past couple weeks. 

I'm not who I was.
My past, it haunts me.
The enemy constantly trying to tell me
Bad mom,
Bad wife,
Bad daughter,
Filthy words I can't even say.
Alcoholic,
Gossiper,
Neglectful.
They taunt me with my
Previous words
Previous actions
Previous heartaches.

Lost memories
Guilt I've held onto for too long.
"Who raised your son?"
I can't remember.
Daycare?
The babysitter?
Wasn't me.
"Did he even eat?"
I don't know.
"Where were you?"
Drugs.
Parties.
Alcohol.
Present only in body.
Mind and soul totally in bondage.

But stop.
I praise the Lord.
The old has passed away.
Behold, He has made me new.
Good mom.
No, great mom.
Great wife.
Great daughter.

Perfect.
He sees me as perfect.
Not for anything I've done,
But because of His Son.
He took my sin
And washed it away.
He overcame so that I could too.
He's taken
My guilt
My shame
My pain
And put it on the cross.
I am free, through His blood.
I am a warrior, through His blood.
My identity is in the resurrected Savior.

He has overcome,
So I can say,
I'm not who I was.
He's rescued me.
He's rescued me. 

My heart is so heavy
Feeling so alone
Distant from everyone
Home isn't home.

Rejection hitting hard
Wanting to run away
Curl up in a ball
Be led astray

Rejection is the hardest thing I've fought.
Worthlessness
Nothingness
Not cool enough
Not good enough
Not "Christian" enough.

It's a constant battle
Rejection stems from pride
A loss of identity
When we don't put ours in Christ

I don't need man's acceptance
Just that of the Lord
Because at some point
This world will burn.
It won't matter who I was,
Or where I lived
Or what I had
All that will matter
Is if I'm star, moon, or sun
Glory that is. 

So yeah. 

Those are the two poems the Lord has given me. Kind of hard for me to share, but gifts are given to edify, not to be kept for ourselves. ❤