Tuesday, October 25, 2011

I, The Coloring Book

You colored me in soft blues and greens,
Hard purples and reds.
Little black specks, to accentuate my most pecious places.
You blurred the colors together. . .
so it is hard for me to see...
who it is,
I am,
anymore. . .
The edges of my body,
the outline for your work.
The insides forgotten
as you busied yourself coloring. . .
If only it were beautiful.
If only you had just torn out this page.

Broken Puzzles

BrOKeN PuZzLEs

She is damaged goods,

Long ago broken

by men who will never pay for their crimes.

Long ago lost

to a world she was never brave enough to dream about.

She sits ever so quietly in her room

wishing,

Wishing to look in the mirror

and see more.

A broken puzzle with missing pieces,

She worked ever so hard to put them together

Filling in the holes with hopes for more

Trying desperately to make out who it is she wants to be

But it doesn't matter

Because no one plays with broken puzzles.

As I lay sleeping

As I lay sleeping the phone rings. It is him, he is scared and alone. I rush quickly to get dressed and make my way to him, terrified I won't make it in time. This time it's bad, I can tell from the sound of his voice. It reminds me of when I would listen to him cry as my father locked him in his room. I can't breathe. I am driving but the road is swirling about, making me feel dizzy and sick.

I call and I call, but he no longer answers. I try helplessly to figure out where he is based on the things he said when he was making more sense. . . wrong. Over and over I call his name but no one answers. Maybe, I figure, his vision is blurry too, so I drive to a similar location. Still not answering. I lower the windows and dial the number and listen. . . nothing. Keep driving, keep calling, keep listening. Finally I hear it. Oh God, I hear his phone but not him, please let him be ok. I run frantically around the area trying to find him, I keep calling.

There he is. . . curled under a bush, not moving. He is cold and stiff. I panick, afraid that I am too late. I drag him out, God he's so heavy. I don't remember him being this heavy last time. I get him turned over and am bombarded with the smell of alcohol and vomit. His eyes slowly open, "Lady" he says "it's ok, my sister is coming, just leave me here". He seems confused when I explain that it's me, that I have found him, that I will take him home.

Home to what? Home to broken dreams and promises. Home to empty walls and beds? How can that be home? Perhaps the concrete where he was lying was a little warmer than this place.

My heart breaks a million times over as I watch him stagger around and cry about all he's lost. I want so badly to help. Just like when he was little I would try to figure out how to push the food under the door so he could eat. Now it seems there is nothing I can do. I stood there helpless and sick until the mosters inside finally quieted enough to let him rest.

I tuck him into bed and kiss his forhead. I am so sorry. "Sorry for what" he says. "sorry for all of this". Sorry that I can't help this time. I leave the house tired and thankful that I found him. Please God if you can't make his burden any less, please always let me find him. Please don't make me say good-bye to someone else over a broken heart.

Drowning

Um if you wouldn't mind

you're making too much noise.

So... your head is underwater

just breathe easy, it's a choice

Um could you please focus

Try not to kick so hard?

Damn, We're trying to save you.

Don't you see you've came this far?

We've been standing here for hours

putting our world on hold,

you've hardly said a thing

except "help the water's cold"

Help yourself! You know you can

Stop the tears from flowing and dry your little face

Yes, We see that you are drowing

We just wish you'd do it with more grace.

Saturday, October 08, 2011

Dear Satan

Dear Satan,
You know that lie you have told me my entire life? The one about never being enough? The one you've whispered in my ear, and spoken from the mouths and actions of others? You are never enough. Never enough for parents to love and protect. Never enough for family to love you. Never enough for friends. Never enough to keep yourself safe. Never enough to take care of your body. Never enough to be the only one for anyone. Never enough to be worthy to even exist...That lie?

The lie that from my birth has had me so broken and twisted? The lie, the one who caused me to live in a way that ended up not being worthy of love and protection? The one that became a self fulfilling prophecy? The lie, the one that almost took me out completely?

Well, I have a new man in my ear, speaking straight to My Heart. He says I was worth dying for. He says His grace is sufficient for my failures. He says I am beautifully and wonderfully made. He says He will keep me, that I am more than enough. He says you're a liar.

Go lie to someone else because I am not listening to you anymore.

Sincerely,

Jessi Lynn
Child of God, Mother to many, and so on and so on...

Guilty As Charged

I many many times use facebook and my blog to share God, His mercy, His grace, His love for me, His love for you. At the same time, I share my struggles with sin, depression, self harm and on and on.

I never ever ever want to come across as anything more than guilty. GUILTY.

I have hurt people and myself far more than most of you will ever know. I struggled years, and still do in some areas, with some really serious sin. You can rest assured if I am talking about God's mercy, it is because in my sin He was merciful. If I am talking about hope, it is because when I had sinned so much and so horrendously, that He did not turn me away. If I am talking about forgiveness, it is because of my deep gratitude of being forgiven of things it took me years to even be able to say out loud, and some that someone had to expose for me, they were so horrible in my mind.

I used to struggle a lot with knowing my failures, and the desire in my heart to share what God has done in my life. I don't want to be a hyprcrite. I don't want to ever make it seem that I am better than anyone, because I am not. If I haven't done it, and I assure you, the haven't done list is small, it is only because of God's grace, and NOTHING to do with my abilities. It is for that reason, and that reason alone that I, GUILTY JESSICA HACKER, with a list of sin that could stretch to the moon and back, still praise Him.

It is from hearing of the failures of others that I found hope. It is in the transparancy of the brave that I learned that there was a way out. I want you to know that all is never lost. I want you to know that you are never too far from home that you can't turn around.

Please never ever mistake my hope for more as a belief that I am deserving of it. It is only an understanding that God's grace and mercy are sufficient.

You Want Her Whole

You want her whole. Trust me. For when she finds her muchness; when she gathers all the pieces of herself, all the pieces you have broke...