Whose. | A Prayer

For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. Romans 14:8 Dear God, Show me whose I am. Not who I am, whose. Show me who I belong to because this world attempts…

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Palms.

I fell hard into rough palms where love was craved and life seemed calm, but fingers aren’t meant to be support systems  so like water this soul slipped through them  with nothing to catch me. I learned, it’s not about feelings it’s about figuring out  the ways we stop growing when our perception caves. It’s…

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Steadfast.

Because the clouds choose   to be pink and blue, I choose to spend this  time only worshipping you. To bask in your creation and marvel at existence since your lovely dedication  is the reason I am. Just as the sky transforms I mold myself to fit your view and promise to stay steadfast  and…

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Even When.

Teach me to seek you even when the world feeds me with empty  promises.  Teach me to love you even when I don’t agree with the plans set out for me. Teach me to worship you even when my burdens sits on my chest weighing  me down. Teach me to trust you even when I…

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Advance.

Your love washes over me in waves.  Despite my losses I can be brave knowing I am kept as your daughter, for even when I slept  you thought I mattered. I was not created  by scientific chance I was divinely placed— planned in advance. Photo: Pinterest

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The Duality of Beauty.

Beauty exists amongst the shadows, in places where darkness thrives and hiding the sun becomes a norm. Beauty exist behind streams of tears, when emotion becomes physical on melanated cheeks and drowned pores. Beauty exists in seasons of loneliness, in moments where our beating heart is the only sound echoed in our ears. Beauty exists…

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Music | Spoken Word

She remembered the tubes.Each pierced into her skin, never had she seen such beautiful masterpieces. She visualized violins. She thought of how her neck would arch to fit into the bow of the violin, as if she and the violin could become one. And her heart beat so perfectly in rhythm you would think it’s…

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Grandma’s Hands.

Just as trees and flowers grow  on soft supple earth, grandma’s womb birthed entire generations.  A lineage that stretches across her spine, to engraved itself at the bottom of her feet.  Like vines, the veins on  her hands told a story, and with them,  she created history. Yet she still lives.  She lives in the…

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Drip.

Just like stained doves fluttering in hay fields, I spotted you between clouds and knew even beautiful things  could be misplaced.  So I climbed the single tree in the vast hay field, only to find an abandoned birds nest with it’s eggs shattered. Twigs intertwined  between empty shells that birthed life— or maybe the shells…

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Altar.

Take me to the altar open like a casket  vulnerable for everyone to see. Take me to the altar refine me with your grace fill every inch of me. Take me to the altar where lives are resurrected  and changed completely. Take me to the altar to bask in your presence— and grow like an…

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