I can no longer enable you.
For too long I have listened to you
Berate yourself about how you function,
How you look,
And how you think.
The words you continuously speak
Denote how much you hate yourself,
Although they seem real enough to you—
They are void of truth and
Perpetuate the lie that you’re unworthy of anything better.
“That’s so harsh!” you say.
But it’s no harsher than your staid internal monologue.
You have collected false self-judgments and
Gorged on them until they have repeated in your mouth...
And then you have swallowed them for a second tasting—
Perhaps even a third.
No, it is not loving for me to come into agreement with your self-implosion.
If I agree with you,
I may as well be handing you poison.
The truth is...
You are a beautiful garden—
A being of illumination
Who has accepted a crown from the wrong king—
The wrong father.
Your smile was created to light up atmospheres;
Your heart was designed to embrace life,
And without you realising it,
The very smallest of cells in your body are dancing in response to His
Kingdom love frequencies.
Your mind is a miracle.
It’s an expanse of beauty,
A universe of possibilities,
An exquisite creative force—
I truly love how He designed you.
Let His light draw you upwards and
Let the warmth of it fill your blood,
Warm your senses,
And heal your scars?
Let His words wash through your mind
While you lean into His verse and rhyme—
As it recalibrates
The dark poetry—
The brooding of your soul?
There is no striving in Him;
No ambition and no ladders to climb.
He already did it all—
The cross is more than enough.
No more apologies.
No more indulging in things He never said;
No more hiding under yesterday’s damage—
Please step away from the stench of self-depreciation...
He says that you are fearfully and wonderfully made.
He says that you are free.
He says that you are healed.
He says that you are delivered.
He says that you are spotless and without blemish.
He says that He loved you before the foundations of the world were laid,
And He says that you’re His child.
Whose words will you replay over your life—
His words, or yours?
His words, or yours?
Photo by Aashish R Gautam