I wanted to write a poem because I am sad,
but all I can do is think about is how cold my
bedroom floor is. There's something strange
about not having enough willpower to even stand
up to stumble five feet to my awaiting bed. Instead,
I sit here, cold, and undeserving of so much. Like
the next breath. Like the next heartbeat, or even the
next blink of an eye. But how amazing is it, that even
after all the wrongs, the twists and turns, the lowest
of lows into a deep abyss of darkness - how is it that
there is a God waiting for me. He's just chilling, smiling
to himself, probably thinking something along the lines of
"this girl needs to get herself together soon, my plans for her
are falling into place and she needs to be ready." It's by His
amazing grace alone that I've even made it this far. I find it
almost hard to believe that He has more planned for me.
But, with this thought in mind (always in mind), I get up,
dust myself off, thank God for the everything, and go.
but all I can do is think about is how cold my
bedroom floor is. There's something strange
about not having enough willpower to even stand
up to stumble five feet to my awaiting bed. Instead,
I sit here, cold, and undeserving of so much. Like
the next breath. Like the next heartbeat, or even the
next blink of an eye. But how amazing is it, that even
after all the wrongs, the twists and turns, the lowest
of lows into a deep abyss of darkness - how is it that
there is a God waiting for me. He's just chilling, smiling
to himself, probably thinking something along the lines of
"this girl needs to get herself together soon, my plans for her
are falling into place and she needs to be ready." It's by His
amazing grace alone that I've even made it this far. I find it
almost hard to believe that He has more planned for me.
But, with this thought in mind (always in mind), I get up,
dust myself off, thank God for the everything, and go.
Comments
Post a Comment