Longing, Love, Words

Fool

The prospect of love reduces me into a manic fool. But how can I not be one, when it is the greatest desire, the biggest longing of my godforsaken heart.

How desperate my clutch becomes, how embarrassing.

But love is my desire, my greatest longing and I can’t help but to become a fool for it.

– written months ago, when I first met him.

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Pain, Process, Words

Change 

“You’ve changed,” she said. 

Pain does that. Time, too. 

“Are you proud of it?”

Of course. Of course I am. I’ve fought so hard to grow into every single inch of this new skin. To hold my head up high every single day and carry on. 

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Consecration, Process, Trials, Wilderness

I do believe, please help my unbelief.

I miss the days of simple faith. Everything is so much easier when you “just believe”. So much more beautiful. 

How I envy those who have not gone through the fires of doubt. 

Here I stand now in these fires. They lick and eat away at me from every side. Will I come out unscathed and stronger, or will they burn me away to waste? 

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