March 19, 2012

Loneliness.

It's why we spend our entire lives searching. Seeking, something. Perhaps someone. It's why we make a lot of the decisions we do. It's why many of us are willing to compromise ourselves, our dreams, our hopes.

It's walking everywhere in a dark, thick, fog. You can see shapes and hear voices, but everything remains a blur. It's feeling the bitter, cold sting of winter's fallen temperatures. It's seeing beauty, and no longer being able to enjoy it. It's lowered heads and sunken hearts, feet dragging and arms hanging. It's wanting to give up, throw the towel in, because being marked as a failure is better than the hopelessness loneliness leaves in your heart.

It's believing loneliness is our only friend, only to find that it has left our hearts empty.

It is as if we each have a hole in our hearts that belong to someone specific. We desperately shove things down in a vain attempt to fill this hole, but there's only one who can.

True Love fills this hole.



--Peace and Love.

March 12, 2012

Love And Be Loved.

"Everybody, everybody wants to love. Everybody, everybody wants to be loved..." --Ingrid Michaelson

Yet, every day I see so many settle for things less than real love.

True love is actually quite terrifying. It is no surprise why most of us settle. The desire remains in us, however, to experience what it's like to love someone with everything we are. To be loved by someone with everything they are.

There is this hole in us that cannot be filled with anything but true love.

For all who have searched for love and came back empty. All who have settled and ended up broken or lost. I'm writing this for you, and I'm writing it for Love.




--Peace and Love.

Beautifully Blown Away..

"I am who I am."
This is the message that wants to resonate within my heart.

My story is mine. My experiences are mine. Everything I've been through, everyone I've met has played a role in shaping who I am right now. My thoughts, my desires, my dreams - they're all mine. My fears are legitimate. My hurts are real. My emotions are valid.

I am who I am!

But for some reason, I've been caught up in the fear, in the lie that who I am will not be accepted. That who I am is not good enough. That who I am isn't worth sharing with the world. But this fear, this lie, is straight up irrational. In fact, I could almost go as far as to say that it's nonexistent. Because time and time again, as I share a small piece of myself with another, it's not rejection I feel, but acceptance. Rarely am I disregarded, yet multiple times I've been embraced for who I am.

Yet the doubt in me wonders if this is so because these people have not yet seen or met "the real me", but only parts of me. If I allowed my heart to live freely, would I still be embraced? Would I still be accepted? Or will I be disposed of, just like my greatest fear tells me?

So there's always this battle between my fear and I. I wanna be free, yet I'm afraid to be. For what will happen when I am free still remains a mystery. I'm like a bird who sits in a cage with the door wide open. I am free, yet I'm afraid to embrace my freedom for fear of the unknown.

And then I ask myself, what is it exactly, that I'm afraid of? For wouldn't it be better to be rejected for who you are rather than who you show to others? Isn't it better to have others reject the real you, as opposed to being rejected and also being a slave to the thought that maybe if that person knew the real you, they wouldn't have rejected you in the first place? Wouldn't it be better to know that if rejected, you know exactly why, and that reason is out of your control?

So why am I so scared?

I wanna fly. I have the wings to do so, I just have to take the leap and try.


-------


I am madly in love with Jesus Christ. He's the reason why I live, the only reason why I do anything - and that's the truth!

I am an artist at heart, an artist in mind. I think abstractly, creatively, uniquely.

I am extremely intrapersonal - I'm always open to areas of growth or change within myself.

I love people. And even though I may not always agree with their philosophy or view on life, I still love to hear their stories. Everyone has a story, it's what makes us who we are. It's what shapes how we see things, see others, see the world.

I have a lust  for LIFE. For true and real life. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have that.

Because of this, I don't get involved in the "party scene".  I don't "hook up" with guys or anything of the such. I've been there, and I don't believe real life is found in them.

I believe in the beauty of purity. I believe that it is a powerful instrument for true life and and real love. I can't wait to meet and be with my husband, and I believe our story will be one of beauty and of power. I believe that our story will touch the lives of many, and give people an enormous amount of hope.

I have a huge heart for women. My desire is for them to fully know the valuable treasures that they are. The best way to show them this is by living in a way that proves I believe I am a valuable treasure. My hope is that this gives them hope. Hope in believing that the same is true for them.

I believe in the power, healing, beauty, discovery, adventure and challenge of love. I believe true love stretches us in ways we never thought possible. I believe that it will test our fears, and then conquer them. I believe it is the most hardcore thing to ever participate in. I believe that it's what all of us long for at our core.

I believe that God is True and Real Love - and I believe that He wants to give it all to us.


I am who I am, take it or leave it.

--Peace and Love.

March 3, 2012

Mia

Once I met a stranger
who existed only in a daydream
her picture was so crystal clear
I thought I was right there with her.

Her name was Bitter
and she ate that nasty root
every morning for breakfast
she swallowed its thorns of harsh reality.

Her name was Bitter
like the taste of her tears
mixed with the dirt on her face
which lays
on a filthy mattress filled with
equally as repulsing memories
of men like her daddy
using her
for their own pleasure.

I closed my eyes to see her clearer.
She lies there in that bed
crying out for a rescuer
to come and save her.

Her name is Dear One
the one whose deep brown eyes
hold a light that's been long forbidden by lies
whose lines tell a story far more tragic than mine
these eyes of a dear girl
hold a hope, far greater, far more powerful
than any miraculous sign.

Her name is Dear One
just like those courageous eyes that try
to hold onto the small shred of belief
that one of these men that come to see her
ONE of these men
instead of using and abusing her
will come for her like a real daddy would
and rescue her.

God!
She's only four years old!!
"Still," He assures me, "she's Mine."
But I cannot hold inside
this anger and fire I feel burning in me
as this little girl waits for a chance
to finally be free.
God..
She's only four years old..
"Yet still," He assures me, "she's Mine."

Her name is Mine
and her Daddy sees her
and He has a plan to destroy every lie
that told her she belongs to no one
that her breaths are each a waste of time
that she will not be rescued
that her hope is a bad joke with no punch line
and that her desires will not be satisfied.

I asked God,
"What is her name?"
For what sort of name could ever match
the precious beauty of the face
I saw on this fearless child
who had been forced to work as a slave?
What sort of name
could ever deserve to be placed
on the soul of this little girl
this priceless jewel
who had been so lied to
that she's now forced to sell her beauty for vain?

God, what is her name?
"She is My princess," He told me so bluntly
"and every night I've heard her cries
and every day I watch as the lies
break one more piece of her precious heart
which was created straight from Mine."

Her name is Mine
and while injustice has been done to her
her Father sees, and He is coming for her
He sees His daughter
and He's coming to rescue her
and will forever be
her loving Father.

--Peace and Love.

March 1, 2012

A Little Princess

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess. I dreamed about it, I imagined it, I dressed up like one, acted like one, even wanted to be treated like one. There was something so captivating about a "fair lady" who was caught up in some tragedy, rescued, and then magically made into a beautiful princess. All this in the name of Love, of course.

I'm twenty-one now, and not much has changed. I still want to be a princess, and I still want to be treated like one. The thing is, over the course of some ten-odd years, the belief that I can be a princess has been torn, broken and trampled on more times then I can count. Time after time people came along who eventually shattered my dream of ever becoming a princess. It killed me. I grew up thinking I was a princess, then I started meeting people who didn't believe I was, and treated me as so, and I began to believe that they were right.

Now, whether or not these people were "jealous step-sisters" or "evil witches" is beside the point. The point is, for whatever reason, these people did not believe that I was, or could ever be, a princess with a tale that ended "happily ever after." And because there were so many of them, I let go of my dream and took on my role as "slave girl." I stopped believing in "happily ever after" and settled for "good enough." But soon, the bar for "good enough" was lowered until I was allowing others to treat me like dirt.

This was the fate I had believed for myself. The thought of having anything more became a foreign one to me. Besides, with the way I had been treated, I no longer believed I even deserved "good enough", much less "happily ever after." The way I was treated taught me that I should be happy with whatever love or affection I can get, even if that meant being used, abused, and walked on time and time again. I didn't question my fate, I simply accepted it.

That is, until my "Prince Charming" stepped in. Except, in this case, my prince was actually a King. He was boss. He called the final shots, and He was mad. His desire was for me, and He came for me. The way I had been treated actually angered Him to the point where He had to step in and do something.

You see, there's something huge that I've learned over my short lifetime, and it's this: Those people - the ones who treated me like dirt, the ones who never believed I was a princess, the ones who even believed that the possibility of me ever becoming a princess was ridiculous, and who helped me believe the lie that "happily ever after" doesn't exist - they were wrong. They are wrong. They had and still have everything all wrong.

The truth is, I am a princess. Fairy tale stories do exist, and "happily ever after" is real.

I was a "fair lady". I was nothing more than a servant girl who did what she could to get by. Simply doing what I was told and being whoever everyone else wanted me to be. But deep in my heart hid the desire to be something more.. to be a princess. Of course, when ever the slightest possibility came to be a princess, suddenly everything was ripped away from me - even my dreams, even my beliefs, even my heart. It was all torn to shreds and lay on the ground beside me while I sat there, alone, bruised, and broken.

But see, my story didn't end there, just as no princess' story ends in tragedy. In fact, this is the climax of the story, for this is when the Rescuer steps in to save the day and win the affection of the battered princess.

This is exactly what happened to me. My Rescuer, my "Prince Charming", my King, came in and saved me. He removed the curse over me with His kiss. He broke every spell that bound me with His genuine love. He took my hand, and now He's leading me to "happily ever after."

See, happy endings are real. And I am a princess. My Prince Charming did come through and came for me. And He is taking me away to live happily ever after with Him forever.


--This is dedicated to every girl and woman in the world. You are a princess, never let anyone tell you otherwise. In the words of Sara from A Little Princess, "All women are princesses, it is our right."--

--Peace and Love.