Up front, it is good to clarify that my faith wasn't in a great place when I wrote this. The loneliness and confusion and perceived isolation of anxiety come through loud and clear. In the midst of the despair that comes out here, a hope in God builds as it finishes.
I share not to celebrate some grim realities in my heart and life at that time but instead to remind myself and others that the fight of faith truly is a fight sometimes. The process of "fighting" for faith and hope is tough to describe sometimes. These words came out from a fight that was very much in process.
The changes in my life and faith between this writing and now are significant. The joy-giving and stability-producing love of God, family, and friends have transformed how I relate to my anxiety. What was written years ago was about something that I kept hidden with fear and shame. I can share it now resting in God's grace and experiencing grace in my relationships with others.
Also, I don't know the "rules" of poetry but I think I was trying to be poetic. Months prior to writing this I got the worse grade of my entire 20 years of formal education as I nearly failed "Intro to College Writing" so please be gracious in your analysis of my 21 year old self's writing. That being said, I hope in the midst of the grimness found below you can be pointed to the Lord.
To live in a broken world is to be hurt,
to be broken and left alone to pick up the pieces.
Avoiding love, avoiding life, I turn elsewhere and
turn my back on family, friends, and regrettably, faith.
Yet, God has never been closer than when I am running away.
I have abandoned his joys, mercy and love.
Pursuing things of the flesh I have tasted
and enjoyed much that the world has to offer.
I have loved money only to squander it.
I have had success in many of my pursuits
God's blessings or the devil's distractions?
Popularity and friends left me alone and scared.
My puffed up thoughts and head deflate with the tiniest pin prick.
Gorging myself on the world I slowly fade.
An empty skeleton, a ghost, tired and terrified.
Bridges burned, loves lost, years gone forever.
To what end has God brought me through this?
Why does he still pursue me?
Why does my family still care?
I have given up on them
and lost hope in what is real.
Still, God reaches out, tenderly, smiling and crying
glad to claim me, dirty and detestable as I am.
He's forever faithful, forever calling but still I run.
Run so he can't catch me, clothe me, or clean me.
When I stop I see him and remember my infidelity.
Spurred on by fear and failure, I start racing again.
When will I listen or learn?
When will I love?
Oh that my heart could rest in him!
But I can't stop and wait. Can't look or listen.
Why must You still pursue, why can't I stop?
Stop and be caught. Stop and be loved.
Stop and feel mercy and grace. Stop and be healed.
Stop and forget all but you and your saving blood.
Stop to see my dependence and admit my faults and failures
Stop and learn to understand my depravity and your holiness.
Catch me already and hold me still, calm my mind.
Suffocate me with your presence.
Let my eyes catch but a glimpse of your glory
that I might proclaim you to all the earth.
Bring me into your temple so that through your grace
I might go into your creation bold and brave.
I know you hold my future, all of my days are planned.
Still I run my race, run on empty, run nowhere.
I want to be still, be calm, and wait on the Lord.
Only when I feel your love can I love myself.
Pour your love upon me, endless and overflowing.
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