It was one of those days where I was feeling weighed down by the weight of my circumstances. Life had dealt me quite a few blows and it seemed like I was never going to catch a break. Truth be told, I was feeling sorry for myself, allowing Satan to assault me with the lies he had been whispering to me since I was a little girl.
For some reason, I had a thought. Write about it. Write a poem. I hadn’t written a poem in twenty years! It used to be what I did to process my intense emotions. I’m not sure why I stopped, and I couldn’t believe that I had forgotten my love of poetry, and of writing it. I started writing, unleashing all of the hurt I was feeling. I fully intended to stop at what became the halfway point. My feelings had been fully unloaded, but I felt the Spirit urge me on. This was not the end of my story. When I finished, I felt encouraged, stronger. I realized that everything that God had brought me through, He was always with me, helping me pen this beautiful story. Below are the words I wrote.
So deep, it seems unfillable.
The only witness to her tears and confessions of her longings
She feels destined to be
Unable to feel the freedom of being
Who would love her?
A girl so lost inside of herself?
She built walls for protection;
It seems that her fortified heart is also her
Is there someone who can rescue her from herself,
From the tower built with her own hands,
Locked from the inside?
Who can she trust with the key to unlock this door
When she cannot even trust herself?
Maybe if someone were able to get close enough to
Pry the key clutched tightly in her hands,
They could set her free.
But the door is heavily guarded from the outside
By dragons carrying the memories of
Abandonment and neglect,
Of sinister hags and fallen princes.
These dragons, too, both protect and imprison her.
Maybe I am not worthy of such a fight?
She thinks as she witnesses time and again,
Knights fall or flee in an attempt to reach her.
This is her fate.
She must accept it.
It is she who holds the key.
Maybe she should stop waiting to be rescued
Maybe she could be brave and free herself.
The key she holds in her hand was forged in
The promises of her Father.
“You, my child, are a daughter of the King.
Not meant to be a princess cowering in a tower,
But a warrior
Wielding a powerful sword
To slay the dragons that hold you prisoner.
You are wonderfully made,
Of immeasurable value,
And I am always with you.
Be brave, my daughter.
Do not be afraid.
I love you.
I created you because
I chose you.
I have a purpose for you.
I know you better than you know yourself.
All that you need.
You are never alone.”
As she remembers her Father’s words,
She turns the key,
Opens the door.
And with one brave step,
She is free.
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