Flat lined on the hospital table
Spiritual ER hardly stable
So blind, unconscious,
like some show on cable
I saw myself laying there
Dying and disabled

I heard the machines
The beeping was declining
Nurses rushing
"We’re losing her doctor
She’s not even fighting"

See, in reality I was smiling
As the world went by me
While inside denying
Too much garbage I’d been hiding

Hurts which I thought were buried
Oh the disappointments they varied
And so too much baggage I carried
while myself & lies were about to be married

unforgiveness was the altar
And bitterness the ring
Unbelief like a witness
Disobedience like a wedding theme

Because somehow my heart of flesh
Had turned to stone
Like I had turned my back on the truth I’d known
Too many wounds
My scars that showed
I had enough
Like the prodigal son, decided to hit the road

I couldn’t save myself even if I tried.
My vitals were dropping
as I held onto my pride
Vitals like hope,
And the desire to keep living
My knowledge of the cross
Felt like a guilt burden

Because I hated my own helplessness
What a failure I had felt
I surely failed God
Just like I had failed myself
I self loathed and pitied
Feeling far from help
In darkness, gave up on myself
And death was the result.

But In the spiritual emergency room,
Like they're about to call time of death
The Doctor rushes in and says
“I’m not done with her yet”

Defibulator named love
Shock waves of truth
Loosening the grips of death
Destroyed deceptions noose
A second shock of love then came
Courage filled my veins again
Like oxygen revitalising my brain
Like an anesthetic relieving the pain
One final shock
A breath of hope
Gasping deeply
my heart no longer choked.

So He excavated my heart
Right after an injection of faith
A painful process
But necessary to loose the chains
For darkness to be gone
And Light to be my robe
I was slowly recovering
As my life was being made whole.

So alive in His grace
A mercy filled report chart
I was given a new heart
Myself and my Saviour were no longer apart
Yet still came an even harder part
Rehabilation had to start.

King of all Surgeons
My counselor, so kind He said:
“You're healed, and delivered
But transformation is in
The renewing of your mind”

He said: I paid the cost for your life to be saved
Your life insurance through my own expense has been paid
No condemnation because you've newly been made
Because I heard every cry of help that you prayed

Let me explain:

I was rescued from deception
Set free through redemption
So now everyday He captures my attention
Asking me one simple faith question:

WILL YOU TRUST ME?

And every day I vow: Jesus, I do.

Note: This is a spoken word poem. Read aloud for best affect. Poem will read with a natural flow.*

Remember back when beauty was that little yellow flower?
And nobody picked it because they were afraid that the color would fade
So they just sat
And they stared
Silent
In awe
For hours at a time
The way that today I look at my reflection
But the awe has turned to agony
And I look in my eyes, and recoil
What used to be “Just fine” now causes inner turmoil
Isn’t that sad?
That flower got picked from its window box in the schoolyard
And just like we expected, life for it got hard
The flower scarred
Its pain written out on every single petal
And the petals, they faded
Like now natural beauty has become overrated
As the flower sits in a bouquet of hybrid roses
And those roses have thorns
Thorns that ***** and sting and poke
Like when you say, “Aw, c’mon, it was just a joke”
To that girl you called ugly ‘cause she dyed her hair and got braces
Trying to fit in with all the other faces
Isn’t that what society wants from us today?
To change and rearrange what God gave us
To fill ourselves with plastic because, according to the famous ones
That’s what makes life so fantastic
And Barbie isn’t our role model because she’s smart
Not ‘cause she’s a doctor and a vet and a scientist and probably a professor in art
But because she’s skinny
And if you put her proportions on a real girl
That girl would be in a hospital
Fighting anorexia while she gets another implant
Today it feels like we don’t stand a chance
Because they tell you that if you wanna make an impression
Just forget that yellow flower
And now, with every waking hour
I think about how I could be taller
Or have prettier hair
Maybe if I dyed it black or red or blonde then everyone would care
Maybe none of them would stare
Maybe I could finally live my life
Without everyone waiting to see if I can finally live up to the expectations
Because I can’t
I look in that mirror wondering if I can see what everyone else is wanting
Because once upon a time
I thought I was fine
I thought short hair was spunky
And dark eyes were lovely
It’s like I’ve been living a lie
Like Christmas time when you finally ask Mommy if Santa is fake
And she hesitates
And then she tells you yes
So I stare for hours and hours
I’m just like that flower
Now I’m broken and I’m plain
When did beauty become a game?
What’s ugly is the way kids hate themselves now
‘Cause of what the TV is telling us now
That we all need to learn how
To look like everyone else
Hate to burst your bubble that I can’t look like Paris or Nicki
(Spoiler alert: They’re fake)
Not unless you want me
Destroying myself
Because I refuse to be like everyone else
I just wanna get rid of the shame
That makes me blame myself for not being “pretty enough”
I just wanna be that flower
Whose beauty was natural and everyone watched for hours
Not needing to compare themselves to it
Because they all looked just as beautiful
And they knew it
So maybe some of us who are still sane, we can make a change
Show the next generation that beauty isn’t in what you gain
It’s when you remain the same
And maybe I can look in that mirror
Without any fear
And actually smile
And sit there awhile
And find beauty without a search
Maybe then there wouldn’t be so much hurt
Like when we see that yellow flower
Petals stretched toward the sun
Then we will know our job is done
And we have finally won

Tonight our bones will never fracture,
even with the weight upon our shoulders.
Our battered arms can lift steel bars,
and weary legs can run for miles.
Tonight our hurting hearts will heal,
and every word will be the suture
in the stitches of our wounds.
Tonight I will be the anchor
that still floats, the anchor
that cannot sink;
but you will be the weight
wrapped around all that I am.
You will be the weight
that keeps me grounded.

These words are for your lips
because I know how much you hate them.
I will use my own to lay these letters on them,
and I promise I will be as soft as the words
you spoke to me before the sun woke up.
I will sink my teeth into every crack and gaping crater,
and I will fill them with everything I have left.
My fingers will trace each newly opened scar,
and I will mend each one with suture made from steel.
And as you slowly chip away, I will
keep all of your pieces together,
because you do not need to be whole to be complete.
You do not need to be whole to be complete.

You spell 'sadness' starting with the letter 's'
Pushed hard against the period of your bedside wall.

I spell 'comfort' with the 'o' of my hands and the 'm' of my *******.
My starting script on your paper back.

We speak and spell 'love'.
We laugh and we hug.
Our bodies 'l' and our arms 'v'.

You roughly rub out our careful pencil spellings,
Our sonnet frayed by a silent caesura.