I’m just a girl.

The age of a woman.

With the heart of a child.

Trying to find my place in this world.

The place where I am needed & wanted.

I’m just searching for the place that I belong.

He and Him used to refer to the indescribable existence of God.

Such belittling words for such power and might.

A box for which I place “All that is” into.

Not to diminish, but to more easily refer to what no words are worthy of describing.

He the universe and I nothing more than a star.

For God is my Shepherd, and I his crook.

Held within his palm I am strengthened; grounded to the earth with every step.

He has used me to break the bones of our adversaries and save the necks of lost sheep.

He is my creator and my source of a purpose driven life.

Without Him, I am nothing more than organic matter decaying upon the surface of the earth.

We can do our best to meet in the middle…

But life doesn’t always work out that way.

So when you can’t make it to the middle.

Just hold steady wherever you are.

And I’ll go the extra mile for you.

Because when I can’t find the middle.

I’ll be patiently waiting for you.

There comes a time in your life when you’ve got to look back and remember who you are. So, the question then becomes, what phase of my evolution of self should I remember? Which one holds the key?

It can’t be the me in my thirties. As this is where I first began to realize that what I had become, wasn’t who I truly wanted to be. Where I find myself now, gently knocking on the door of my forties. Now willing to brave the quest to find the answers from remembering who I am.

Surely it’s not the me I was in my twenties. The one that was so eager to “succeed” that I had become the cookie cutter paper doll I thought I needed to be. Foolishly believing in all the lies I had been told of what success actually was and what it took to achieve it.

It couldn’t be my teenage years. When I believed I had all the answers. When life seemed so simple yet overwhelming complex at the same time. When it was easy to think I had it all figured out; while my parents paid the bills and my only responsibly was to go to school. When the taste of freedom and the goal of it all was naïvely painted in my mind.

Reflecting on my preadolescent I knew this couldn’t be the time either. I was drenched in awkwardness and insecurity. Moody and unsure of everything that surrounded me. Desperately searching for a box that I’d fit comfortably inside while slowly discarding all that I truly was.

That’s when a film strips of memories and home videos began to appear in my mind. My red hair shining in the sunlight as I played with baby rabbits, spinning around in a polka dotted dress, and painting pictures with pride in my eyes. I was confident and free; bold and unafraid of failure. I saw myself jumping on my wooden rocking horse while believing that I could conquer the world.

I remembered talking to angels and people that others couldn’t see with no concern of what anyone else thought. I remembered climbing high with no the fear of falling. I remembered me singing to the top of my lungs and dancing to the beat of my own drum. I remembered saying whatever crossed my mind and speaking to anyone with zero hesitation. I remembered the visions I saw and the forts that built. I remembered my smile and my laugh. I remembered the brightness of my spirit and the love in my heart.

The answers then became quite clear through this moment of reflection to remember just who I am. That I’m still that little child; and she’s still resides in me. Only now she’s been made stronger from the struggles and made wiser through each experience.

So the lesson here I suppose is…

The power gained in remembering who you are; becomes the catalyst that aids in the dismemberment of what you became. All in effort to reveal to you the best version of the person that you are and the person you’re meant to be.

I’m going to sleep with my window open.

So I can breathe in the same crisp air and moonlight you are tonight.

10/29/21

It’s made from vintage steel and trimmed in timeless black.

Its imperfections gives it character, but its charm is much more than that.

Its rich history has seasoned the pot, while new memories are created with every drop.

It brews a blend of the bold present, that’s hinted with notes of nostalgia.

Its style is simple and old fashioned that some may consider too outdated.

But for us, its presence warms a home and its value is never unrated.