You know, I wrote this poem a decade ago.
If I remember correctly, it was written about a relationship I was in–
But it closely parallels to the relationship I had with my Creator at that time period.
Funny how it’s a daily (sometimes minute to minute) surrender of self.
I will never “arrive”. It’s more importantly about the journey towards wholeness.
Even though the circumstances have drastically changed, the behavior patterns default to the same–
Until I decide to turn my will over to the God who created me, and knows me better than I know myself.
I needed a bigger God, so I finally let Him be.
He always Was and Is–It was me who put Him in a box.
“Sitting here in the silence,
I listen to my own chaos.
Seems so overwhelming
That the presence of the external world is peaceful
But my insides rage.
Thoughts of what could be,
What might be–
Plagues me to the bone.
You fill me with expectations of what I should be
But all I give you in return is a nasty look and a slammed door in the face.
Leaving you to take that however you wish–
And waiting for nothing in particular in return.
I should be,
I could be,
But why am I not?
Help me if you wish–
But do not expect anything in return.
A kind gesture has no strings attached
But you bolt on chains trying your hardest not to let me escape.
Somehow along the way, I broke free from the curse
Ironic how you thought it was already broken
What you did not realize–
It was you I needed a break from” -Shea 2001
Exposed 