Under your loving hands, like an infant, I rest, protected in hand.
Under the vast emptiness and dullness of the galaxy, your light shines, your robe, O so white!
SO glorious your face, your presence!

Your presence, it caresses me, with just a little bit more, I would have been crushed and would have been drowned under my own tears and would have dented the marble floor with certain and whole-hearted knees.

How marvelous is that cross...a word won't fit it.
That cross...if only words, dots, dashes, and punctuation can have more to offer. An endless murky drowning sea of words of different fonts and sizes won't quite make the mark.

You made my mouth like a sharpened sword. Ready to fight for your name, ready to stand my ground, ready to make the darkness fear and make fallen angels regret their mistakes. They already are.
ready to open hearts and minds, as you call many to you.

You make me like a polished arrow. Ready to go wherever you shoot me, ready to tear down what the devil has built. Ready to have your word, the gospel tied to me, as I fly through the spiritual realm and spread your word, the gospel. Simply the gospel. NOTHING MORE NOTHING LESS.

You hid me in the shadow of your hand. You cover me. You protect me. You hide me even if it seemed like all eyes were on me. Maybe they are on you. I want to be more like you in image O LORD.  

You concealed me in your quiver, God USE me!!! IF only words quite make sounds of hunger and thirst and the cries of my spirit and my new heart to you! You polished me and I am ready.
Ready whenever you say its time to go, or then I have to stand strong. Ready whenever, wherever, however you call me.

You polished me.
I am sharpened.
I am a polished arrow and have a sharpened mouth.
"Okay LORD GOD, I am ready."

"Who are you?"
"Well, I am Joshua."

That's how I would have always said in the shock that someone, SOMEONE, talked to me.

No, I didn't know myself.
Locked in a chamber of anxiety and wanting to be among THEM on their shelf.
To be labeled as cool.
To not be like a fool.
Someone to be laughed at.
Mocked and torn I don't wanna be that.

Already torn I replace them with fake zest and excitement.
"Finally, I am welcomed."
When I left primary school, that place of...pretense and regrets, I stood there in the new school.

"Who are you?'
"I....don't know..."
"I mean...I play sports...I played catching with the cool kids..."
"Urm....well, I don't like cartoons..they aren't cool..."
"I am...."

"Who are you?"
No respond.
I feel like such a lost con.
Those aren't me.
Those answers aren't me.
"Please accept me..."

"Who are you?"

She looked with arrogant eyes.
Looked with it on my shirt and pants.
She painted me with shameful glances and 'can'ts'.

I am afraid to be free of fear of man, but to be trapped with my personal desires preferences.

It seems, your tears filled up your bowl.
It seems, that, your mouth, your teeth, they chewed till they were sweets.
It seems that, your....
I can't do it.
Couldn't sympathise so well.
I am confused, and I am so broken.
I am breaking. I feel so dead.
I feel like, I...I can't...do that...or this...or them...
I have so many things.
"I am holding on..too tightly to certain things..."
I am scared and frightend.
I am lost. Feel forgotten.
I can't seem to breathe.
I am so tired.
Of....me.
Of myself.
This body, this heart, my enemies. .
Oh, how I hope I can be separated from them.
I didn't get enough sleep last night again.
I didn't....
I cant.
My fingers they are sliding across the keyboard, just trying to catch up the wild thoughts of my mind, and I stop, broken.
I want to rest, but I would be lazy.
I want to stop and think, but that's just procrastinating.
I....
I can't.


Sorry, 12258
Sorry God.
Sorry Mother and Father.
Sorry sister.
Sorry. To myself.

"Congrats you failed. Yes you."
I said.
Pointing to the mirror.

I stand in awe.
In awestruck-awe.
I see no flaws.
Even with my faith I see no flaws.
overwhelmed.
Crazy, mad, impossible, some would have said if they knew just a bite-size of your grace oh God.
How I stand in the middle of your radar.
As the waves and frequencies of your grace surrounds me.
The only fear I would have is that it would be too overwhelming for me to take in.
When the devil says you don't love me.
Remind me to see the horizon.
An endless, endless, endless, stretch of grace.
As my sin increased, your grace increased...all the more.
Because it's endless I would not be able to wrap my head around it and make sense of it.
Only to make sense, something that is so profound, and absolutely indescribable. Even the word 'indescribable' alone won't fit it.
Let alone your grace, how about your love. Your mercy. Your power. Your majesty.
Endless.
Endless catalogs and memoirs of what you have done for me.
Never a remembrance because they aren't dead. No.
When anxiety comes, God, remind me of your word. Your promises.

Ocean of grace.
Not yet, have I seen your face.
I wait till that day, just push me at your own pace, and carry me closer and closer to your face, as I slowly fade....
away.