Assume meaning when none is visible, find love where none is offered. The trials were thorns with healing properties in them; the victories a hollowed-out medallion, shelved within a day or two. I was not made to win, I was made to endure. I raise my shield and face the storm; this is not the patience of waiting but the patience of pursuit as the winds of time push against me. My body is besieged by its worst nightmares and still I remain, though there are nights I am tired of remaining. I can bear a scar on the elbow or a chipped tooth, for if it were an eye for an eye I would surely be blind. A broken femur grows back stronger, a torn soul stitches itself together and returns heavier, filling a room like fog. Were it not for trees breathing oxygen into me or birds dancing on clouds, I would not believe the impossible to be true. I lie on the ***** of God as He shapes me, even as I deny Him. I searched for Him in books, but He was always here, in the spacing between the words, cradling me as He fills the empty rooms where I sit and contemplate. I thought myself a sinner, but my worship came in breaths and suffering, and when there was nothing left to say except exhalation, I understood that silence had been praying through me all along.
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 2:06 PM UTC
Assume meaning when none is visible, find love where none is offered. The trials were thorns with healing properties in them; the victories a hollowed-out medallion, shelved within a day or two. I was not made to win, I was made to endure. I raise my shield and face the storm; this is not the patience of waiting but the patience of pursuit as the winds of time push against me. My body is besieged by its worst nightmares and still I remain, though there are nights I am tired of remaining. I can bear a scar on the elbow or a chipped tooth, for if it were an eye for an eye I would surely be blind. A broken femur grows back stronger, a torn soul stitches itself together and returns heavier, filling a room like fog. Were it not for trees breathing oxygen into me or birds dancing on clouds, I would not believe the impossible to be true. I lie on the ***** of God as He shapes me, even as I deny Him. I searched for Him in books, but He was always here, in the spacing between the words, cradling me as He fills the empty rooms where I sit and contemplate. I thought myself a sinner, but my worship came in breaths and suffering, and when there was nothing left to say except exhalation, I understood that silence had been praying through me all along.
#religion #God #isolation
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