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note to self: i’ll be there for you, always

written june 6, 2021. Photo by Kristine Cinate on Unsplash I have always looked for myself in other people. I think the idea was that they would somehow hold the pieces of me that I felt were missing. That maybe, if I wrapped my identity up in theirs enough, we would somehow make a whole person. It's not healthy to live like this, but I did it anyway — burning through relationships and searching for something I couldn't quite name. It was never enough, not to be myself, but it was never enough to latch my identity to other people, either. I got close, several times — I thought I had reached the pinnacle of self discovery. I thought I had completed myself. But in the end, relying on other people to help build yourself is never a viable way to do things. It's only recently that I've started to become comfortable with the idea of being enough, as I am, on my own. Several years ago, in this same position, I would have searched for another person to attach my identity onto,
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Cracked Pots

It's not easy for me to post this poem. It's the first poem that I don't fully understand. I wasn't trying to put meaning into it, yet every time I read it I find something more that I never intended to write. This poem was penned the night after the sermon on weakness, and it was my overflow of thoughts from the night. None of them made total sense at the time, but I think that most of it was inspired by God.

It's because of the potent meaning in this poem that I'm sharing it with you, my closest friends. Feedback would be much appreciated, but not necessary. One of these days maybe I'll write what this poem means to me. But for now, I shall leave you with the poem itself. I hope this speaks to your heart in some way.

The darkness
It hangs like a shroud
Reminding me of who I have been
And what I have not
Past sins fill my mind
With anguish
Regret.
Who am I?
A sinner.
What am I?
Unclean.
Cracked.
Dust.

Cracked pots
Broken stones
Weak vessels
Amazing grace

I live a double life
Ashamed of one life
Unsure of the other
I am a good person
I go to church
I read my Bible
I am a good person.
But not really.
I sleep in the dirt
I have no home
This poison is only what keeps me alive
I think this is what I chose
But I’m not sure
I think Someone could save me
But I’m not sure
I’m broken
Useless
Too far gone to be saved
…I think.

Cracked pots,
Broken stones
Weak vessels,
Amazing grace

Pain
It splits through this fog
O God, what have you done?
Why must this hurt?
Why do you not answer my cry?
Why?
It hurts
Oh, it hurts.
Father, take this from me!
Let me walk again!
I am so weak.
So weak.
Are you stronger?

Cracked pots, broken stones
Weak vessels, imperfect lives.
Hopeless night, increasing dawn
Spilled water, scattered seeds.

Amazing Grace.

My God, my God
Why have you forsaken me?
May this cup pass from me?
I feel their sorrow.
I feel their pain
I cannot contain this compassion
So I cry for you
For cracked souls, broken hearts
Oh this love
Purest love
Overwhelmed by love
Oh, how beautiful, this love
I will die.
I will die for love.

Grace in weakness
Perfect power
Made complete
Through brokenness
Fulfilling His plan
Through brokenness
Perfect love
Made complete
Through brokenness

Cracked souls, broken hearts
Weak vessels, wounded healers
Made complete through brokenness

This is Jesus
This is grace.
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