Category: A Journal of Sorts

Today is November 5th, 2017. It is a Sunday. The weather has been cold cloudy and sunny at times. I led worship, it went terribly, but that’s in the past now.  Speaking of the past. As I have been this week I went through my journalling folder. I read this post from August 12th, 2016.…

There’s this thing about me that I always forget, and that is if I really try. I CAN be thankful. Even on days, I’d constitute as bad.  Today, for instance, FELT like a shit storm. I went from breakfast to Cadre, to meeting with Josh and Heidi, to brief Admin Office time to lunch prep,…

I thought I was done; done with stinging eyes and tear-damp pillowcases. Done with voiceless crying in the shower. Done with sniffling for hours after.  But then… I turned 17 At first, I was fine, But then the little ones went away.  At first, I was fine,  But then I messed up.  … And then…

I would be a fool not to realize how lucky I am. The cards I was dealt, the people that have been put into my life, there is nothing I could ever do to deserve such a kindness. I will never understand how I find so many ways to be sad. I am surrounded by…

For a moment I selfishly convince myself that I am the worst of this world So at least I have someone to blame So I can play victim to my own humanity I am so afraid of what tomorrow brings To dirty my hands in stern-ness Even if rightfully so.

I think I know what’s wrong with me. In so many ways I feel as if I have messed up irretrievably.  I let myself forget again and again that mistakes shape us. That behind every misstep, every faulted, every crack in the road, there is something to be learned, But for once in my life,…

Here is an absence of time. No one moves, no one speaks, not loud enough anyway. There are only mutters, twitches, and flashes of light. The sound ringing in your ears has lost its meaning. The world is here, something dim, cold, and out of focus. The sky is nothing but the lid of a…

My head is a bombshell, inside my thoughts sit, sentient, but explosive, inching to be free. There are so many thoughts dying to escape pressure builds, accumulates like the spring rain   and the winter rain so many emotions, I am so confused. I could laugh, I could collapse and weep I could sleep and wake,…