Broke Down Blossom

Blossom down

Landing on

Forgotten ground

Just like love lost

A heart tossed

Aside                                                                                                                                                   Shoved by

Pride

Hearts held back

Hearts weak hearts slack

A small room, where damage lives

A small piece that I could never give

Like a blossom dropped from the dozen

Like a piece stopped, held frozen

But in it danger dwells

And the need only swells

I grasp at the stems

Desperate for control

Fists clenching my soul

Bloody briars sting my skin

Exposing liar’s sin within

I am the weak the broken flower

Need takes over, stealing power

I give in                                                                                                                                                       She gave up

In love she left

 

The blossom on the floor

 

I can’t tell if that poem is happy or sad… both maybe?

I think I have always worshiped women… The statement by itself sounds amazing I suppose, who wouldn’t want to be worshiped? Well, it’s how that worship is put into practice that is the problem. I loose myself… I pour myself into the worship… only I hold a tiny little bit back.

That tiny little bit is the part of my heart/mind that clings to my victim attitude, that holds to old habits, and that whispers in my ear at night, “You’re gonna loose her.”

 

Fear made me worry, worry turned to anxiety, anxiety turned to acting out, and soon I had created the exact situation I feared so much…

Welp, I’m done doing that, (o.k. I’m getting ready to start being done…) I’m working on a true and pure love, a love that can only come from/through God and it feels pretty peaceful. How?

Million dollar question baby!

Probably the biggest thing is to trust God. I’ve seen some amazing movement in my life and I had a revelation that was/is mind blowing the other day. I’ll share it with you sometime (look at me building suspense!) when I can think of how to tell the story without sounding bat *poopie crazy. (I’m also trying not to curse these days, which requires heroic effort and vocabularic control)

For now I try to remember what love should be and the following helps me to stay focused on exactly that.

1 John 4:18-19

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

 We love because he first loved us.

*I’m also trying not to curse these days, which requires heroic effort and vocabularic control