Spoken Heart

It was time to clean out my cupboard
From the lurking and lingering thoughts abandoned
The lost touch of a mother one never knew
The strength of a man to keep me from the stray path
Carried another in my place
Could you understand my pain without the experience?

What is truth?
 I ask?
Can a Christian feel pain?
He is allowed to be sad?
Is permission granted to express?
A few words needing to spread their wings and fly
But the words you read in this book,
Can they really be found in a Christian?
Questions upon questions
But many yet to be answered

Liberation was a requirement
Could my tears freely flow?
My words were the ink upon a wet page
Taking their own course
Out of my control
As I put pen to paper

Dear Lord
Was I allowed to feel this way?
Is my expression a crime against love, peace and joy?

There was an expectation that lacked explanation
Trying to reach out
Crying out for help
But what ground of authentic
Was my pain based on?
Was it genuine?
Or of self pity?
Is this pity upon my own soul?
How do I open your eyes to my words?

Have I yet to forgive myself?
You forgive and forget
Love holding no accusation, holding no record of wrong
Can I brush aside what I dare call pain?
Can I sweep it up and throw it in the bin?

There is a greater calling awaiting me
No man needs confirming
Its truth
Where do I begin?
How do I contemplate manifesting?
When there’s so much mess within?
Are only my eyes that see the mess?
Can I overlook them?
And see what love sees?

Lord,
How I need you to make better
Better than how I was
But am I helping myself though?
Are my actions corresponding to my faith for change?
Many nights I pray
Many nights you remain in my presence
Looking to embrace me
But yet I miss your touch

Your love has been shed
Just acceptance is necessary
But how do I accept?
How do I walk in it?