Should the whole world plead to God on your behalf?
Will it take
death
illness
carcrashes
shipwrecks
what do you need?
You are a fool. You will end in destruction.
From the book of Proverbs to your ears.

God is crying out to you.
He weeps over you.
He weeps over His lost children.

But they will know Him.
Not because you show them. Not because you tell them He loves them.
Others will tell them. I will tell them.

You forget His love. You don't love His love.

Does God grow tired of you?
Does God want to give up on you?
How can He keep trying?
How can they all keep trying?
You have exhausted the masses.

old

lovelovelove.

I mostly just haven't typed for a while.
And thus this.

It's strange, isn't it, how people move in and out of your life.

I have a new life now. It's wholly separate from the life I was living two years ago.
New people. New church family. There are a few jewels that have stayed in my life and in my heart since the day that I met them. But other than these sacred few...
life has moved on.
new life has come.

It's not a bad thing. It's not even necessarily a sad thing.
It's just...a strange thing.
Sometimes I'll see something or someone and be reminded of this old life.
And I'll think...
"You were my every day. You were my hard work and love and friendship. You were my decision-making ability. You were my plans. You were my comfort. You were my advice. You were my all."

I have a new all.
I have new love friendship hope work joy responsibility family friends advice.
New husband.

But it strange to me.

The old has truly passed away.

Entirely.

I'm buried.
I'm consumed.
I'm just deep deep deep
into myself.

get me out of here.
I'm getting lost.

I don't think anyone can hear me sing.

I think that my songs don't mean anything
to anyone but me.

And even though it's your song
and I can't hear it either unless you sing the harmony part...

You don't sing.
Because you don't know that without your voice they don't mean anything.

And I can't leave you.

And you don't know me.
Somehow, you don't know me. I don't know how that happened.
It's supposed to be different than that.

I know it's better without me.
Somehow, it's better without me.
Even though I made it, it fits better, and I realized that I was gone for too long and the wound closed and healed and now I don't fit back where I was.

And I'm sorry.
And sometimes you're not sorry.
And you don't know that we grew up.

And even though you're true, true, true
and not one can find fault in you...

You don't sing, and no one can hear the emptiness except for me.

When you sing, I know where my voice fits.
But sometimes there's quietly no room for it.

I don't think anyone can hear my songs.

Contemplations.

So full.
Of bananas and milk.

And also...
Love.
Joy.
Peace.

I don't know what to do, or how we're going to do it.
BUT.
We're blessed.
Annointed.
So here we go.


Give me all of your negative.
Pour it over me.
Drench me in your opinions and your can'ts and fear.
Let me have all of it.
Every breath upon which "shouldn't" rides.
Give it.
All.

And when you're done.
When you're empty

I'll still be

full.

One word resounding, resounding, resounding.

"Failure".

engaged.

I'm engaged.
I'm going to get married.
To Adonis.

I'm going to be a wife.