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Posts Tagged ‘broken’

Satan has a temper.
He is the tempter
he can make a grown man cry,
can make a fake saint cut flesh like an apple slicer.
Satan knows your weakness
he knows the thing that will tear you to pieces
if you feed sin like steak to a dog.
You can bury the bones but they just get dug up
by the very ones you were trying to hide them from.

It’s always the secretary.
Those little looks and chocolates left on the desk.
He puts his hand on her back, and lets her walk ahead.
They go out for coffee to talk about work
and talk about everything but work.
Still he drives home to, “Daddy, look what I made in school today.“
“Hello, dear. How was your day.”
“Great,” he says.

The road is narrow, like an alley in a movie
that makes you yell at the screen.
“Are you crazy, or just stupid,” you say.
“Someone is bound to be down that way.”

And there he waits
wearing shadows like a cape.

But what if you were a karate master.
Ain’t scared of nobody, nohow,
“Stop hiding like a coward and face your prey.
I’ll take you on any day.
Not so tough when I don’t see it coming, are you?
be gone,” you will say
“In the name of Jesus, get the hell out of my way.”

And Satan turns from thunder
to the crumbler.
From the devour to the coward.

The supernatural comes alive
in that moment of faith
when nothing nowhere
will ever destroy God’s grace for you.

Your body will grow tired,
your hands a wrinkled mess,
but after this life, this moment in time
you’ll never look back, never say remember when
because this is nothing, nothing
compared to what waits ahead. 

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I saw his white hair before anything else.
Maybe it was his trembling legs
as he took the steps one by one off the plane.
Though his suitcase small
he struggled to hold it as if it was stone.
Those behind him remained silent
but their tapping fingers along the rail
brought a frown to my eyes…
Yet I have been one of them.

His wife waited at the bottom
like a mother at the end of a slide.
He seemed to learn a little too far forward
and I bit my lip.
A few steps can feel like you’re falling down a mountain.
Broken bones could occur.

Maybe he does it to prove that dozens of lines on his face
does not define his strength.
Maybe he faces the stairs because he wanted to see his granddaughter
walk down the aisle.
Maybe retirement was the only time he had money
to see the world.

Or perhaps stubbornness simply multiplies with wrinkles. 

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I learned today that Midwest people are more passive-aggressive. We are nice, but it takes A LOT to get us to open up. Vulnerability has become something we are almost ashamed of.

In high school, there were 3 ways in which you could approach vulnerability. You could either blab it to the world about how much of a heartache it was to not see your boyfriend for two days, you could find one person whom you could actually trust to not say anything, or you kept it to yourself for reasons of your own.

I was one of the people that kept things to myself. There were A LOT of blabber mouths around my school, and if you told the wrong person, you can bet everyone would know about it, even though they wouldn’t talk about it. I am also from a small school, so everyone knew you, and you even had kids younger than you giving you snobby looks. For me, my problem wasn’t necessarily that I didn’t have anyone to talk to, because I actually had two best friends whom I know without a doubt wouldn’t tell a soul if I asked them to keep it quiet, but more the fact that I didn’t want anyone to know I was in pain about something.

There are people all over the world who are going through more problems than we are. I know that, you know that. Yet there are still the people who whine and bitch and act like they have the worst life imaginable, and it makes you want to punch them in the face for their stupidity. We all have many things to be grateful for, even in times of sorrow. A lot of the people I knew who would complain were also doing it for attention, which ticked me off even more.

I didn’t want to express anything on the downside because I always reminded myself that there were people who were going through worse, and I just needed to toughen this out and stop whining to myself.

If you were someone like me, yes there are people in the world who are having a worse day than you, but don’t let that stop you from talking to someone. There is a difference between proclaiming your pain to the world to get sympathy from others and telling someone your pain so you can figure a way out of it. I kept so much in because I didn’t want people thinking I was a wimp, and that has led to present grudges and memories that are hard for me to let go.

Find someone whom you trust and open up to them. Let someone else know you so they can help you figure out why you do some of the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, maybe even help bring light to things even you haven’t noticed and bring peace to problems you can’t solve on your own. You aren’t superman, so don’t try to do this on your own. People need people, even if you are someone who would rather be alone.

Just because you’re problems may not be the life or death of you, doesn’t mean they aren’t important. Just be careful how you express yourself. Be self-AWARE, not self-ABSORBED; and remind yourself that things will get better and that this is just a block in the road that you can get past with some encouragement. Counseling is nothing to be ashamed of, and is something I actually think everyone should do a couple sessions of.

We think that brokenness is something to be frowned upon and must be kept hidden…but when you think about it, the kingdom of heaven was BUILT for the broken, a place where the broken come together, and a place where the broken are given a new life, new start, a new filling that can’t be found anywhere else.

Your vulnerabilities make you beautiful. They are not something to be ashamed of, but rather something to embrace, to learn from, to use through your life. Live wisely.

 

If this interests you, listen to Brene Brown on her TED TALK about Vulnerability. It is great!

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