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Photo by Kathy Servian on Unsplash

I love the way she loved caterpillars, butterflies, anything that moved, really, showing love to her roly poly’s and stuffed animals, alike, before I tucked her in at night

I remember asking her why she ran, into the rain and away from me, her past playing in her mind and stuck on repeat, little socks wet, no shoes on her feet, and she told me it was cause it made her feel free

I am learning to treasure my peace

Never been one for birdwatching but I dream of wings, even going so far as to watch the butterflies with envy.
But what does a caterpillar know of flight?
Is it logical to be jealous of something we lack the capacity to understand?

I’ve done my time, racing God to the finish line even though He is the alpha and the omega
Asking how long, how long, how long will my reflection, my shadow, and my cats be my only company
Wondering at the way that the heavy blanket of silence smothers me and is so, so loud
I am drowning in a sea of oxygen, too delirious to realize all I need to do is breathe
Awash in an ocean of radiant light with my eyes closed and crying out that I can’t see
The truth is, my story is stranger than fiction,
some people have told me it’s hard to believe
But I know God’s mercies are new every morning, Sarah laughed when an angel said she would conceive

And the more things change, the more they stay the same, even metamorphosis doesn’t strip a monarch of its name

I am so impatient

I am learning to wait

I’m getting too old to spend forty years on a journey that’s meant for eleven days
I am so impulsive in prayer, ask when my heart’s not ready, forget that God is great
Made of dust, telling God I’m the potter
racing Him to the finish line, shaping the clay

I am unfinished, it’s hard to see beauty when other girls just seem more wonderfully made
Look in the mirror-like “God, whatcha doing?”
Makeup can’t fix what I see as mistakes

He wrapped me in light so it didn’t matter that I couldn’t see the sun that He’d made
Clothed me in peace and said this is your chrysalis, won’t say you can’t run but I know that you’ll stay

Always saying I want to be held

Always saying I want to feel safe

It’s one of those things you don’t know till you have it and I know I’ll fly someday
Said prepare my heart, Lord, make me new and He built me a chrysalis, gave me a quiet space

And I said, “but God, I want to fly now”
Felt the sting of conviction, the splash of His grace
Said, “child, wanna fly but don’t know what your wings look or feel like
Let me be God and seek My face”



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Hope Rising

Hope Rising

Divorced, biracial woman | 23 going on 65 | Editor for Out of the Woods | I write to heal myself and others | Support me at