Romans 7:17-25 "So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin who dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out."
The font, together with the verse, seems so heavy to carry. Wondering in a blank shadowed image, I saw just myself, failing and trampling over milestones I smashed and declared victory before. Well, maybe this is just me grieving. Grieving about those shadowed laughs, present sobs, and future unknowns. But maybe, in this certain life an Almighty had given me, I had failed to keep the peace.
What is it that He wants me to do anyway?
What is it that is so perfect—I cannot reach enough?
What is it, the He had prepared for me?
Is it justifiable if He gives me big enough, when I can only carry its dust?
This breath, I didn't ask for. This family, I couldn't keep. This friends, who tramples upon me. This love, who poisons my soul. This body, who abused me hard enough. Oh death, where is your sting? Oh death, is this your sting?
In a room of psychopaths and criminals, I am in. Travel around the coast, maybe touch the sands or hover beneath the ocean—all those things, is what a maiden woman is asking to breathe more and perhaps live for another day.
I failed to be a good sister. Like the man in the Bible, it's not something I wanted. I never wanted to shut my door hard enough it bangs the tears of my half. I never meant to boil inside, and scream, and doing nothing to ease the pain and the fear and the feeling inside me—I never wanted to mishandle my life, that now tramples upon my relationship, and my health, and my peace.
I failed to be a good daughter. And I'm sorry if I'm making this book all about me and my traumas but where oh where can this chaos be hidden? Can I hide in my pillows? Can I hide it, perhaps in my favorite diary? I hide my devils in words, and letters, and reading, because at the end of the day—I never wanted anyone to find out how life turned its back on me.
It is not me, but the flesh within me. And even tho I want to do what's right, I'm too weak to move.
I never wanted something big, Lord. I never wanted something enormous to carry.
All I asked for, is a faith as small and as innocent as a mustard seed.
That's all I want.
