Be Midnight Me

Last night I wrote the poem below at midnight, not because I wanted to but I am realizing that this is a good time for me to write.

Quiet.

Dark.

Completely present.

Being.

My mind zips along on its hamster wheel of thought.

Writing helps me grab words, themes, feeling and alas the wheel stops.

One year after my mom’s second session of crazy poison chemotherapy, my grief is deep. The benefit of living a year past this moment is that I know the waves won’t consume me, the grief won’t paralyze me and my sleepless nights will end.

Here are my midnight musings:

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Midnight Me

I am a northern girl.

A redneck to some.

I am six feet tall.

A woman.

Imperfectly perfect in His image.

Overflowing with God’s grace.

(Cause He knows I need it!)

I am a Jock.

And an artist.

A mover and shaker.

A beautiful outlaw.

A writer of words.

A bearer of my soul.

A sole bearer.

My heart hurts.

As I ponder.

Watching my best friend.

My mama.

Die.

She has gone ahead of me.

Leading the way to heaven.

My mom’s life and death has re-ignited the gift Jesus gave me at 19.

A reminder.

Freedom to the captives.

Hope.

Grace.

Love.

The rope is frayed.

Split.

Disintegrating.

Nothing holds me back.

Expectations.

Judgement.

To do lists.

I am free!

Glory to God alone who brings freedom to the captives and weaves EVERYTHING together for his goodness.

2 thoughts on “Be Midnight Me”

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