My physical heart on a page

Familiarity, what a feeling I wasn’t aware of longing for but all the while still missing it within the depths, in the most fragile hairline cracks of my inner most self.  Craving the answers to the questions I have yet to ask myself, realizing my flesh was morphing into dimensions and geometric patterns it thought it needed squeeze into while over looking what my authentic self needed most. 

Longing, what a desire that used to feed my soul like the healthiest of substance possible mixed with the wonder of a child running to the thing that reminded me of the past the most in my deepest conscious. I again am transported to another place when my finger tips paint across the keyboard in a symphony of utter chaos and realizations, I am reminded yet again what Home feels like. I don’t know what true magic feels like but I have a slight suspicion this is the closest I’ll ever truly get to it; right here painting my canvas of commas and metaphors while Aisha Badru’s rasp fills my headphones blocking the rest of it out. 

I’ve run from a lot this past year, even though it still felt like I reached my final destination I feel like I missed a lot along the way because of all the missed paths I skipped to get there faster, you know? Simple things and big things all missed because I was either scared or filled with self doubt that just seem so silly now. I ran from dreams, I ran from love, I ran from emotion, I even ran from God’s plan there for a little while. Being back on the plan now doesn’t mean I have it all figured out, because the rug could be pulled out from under me tomorrow, that much I do know, but I also completely comprehend and acknowledge all the times I said my heart was content and happy when I knew deep down, it wasn’t.

I don’t want to be a servant to my history, but I do want to validate all the things I hid for so long.. so here it is, my heart on this page in hopes that it will bring me freedom, in hopes that it may reach a lost soul who feels like the world just doesn’t understand, in hopes to let go and move on and for absolutely no other reason. In all the ways the world could tempt me, I never met a better fighter than my fear. 

I am still angry for the traumas of my past four years later, my assault altered my college years and I still have trouble falling asleep at night. I still have nightmares that I lose control of my surroundings and I still shutter when someone touches me from behind with out my consent. What is the Lord showing me through that though, through the redemption and the passing of time? I find my safety in Him even though He’s not safe, and has never claimed to be, but I crawl up in His lap and He wraps His arms around me and I finally feel safe again. I’ve learned to depend on Him in my weakest of moments. 

I am still heartbroken over someone from my past and sometimes I still feel like I am really easy to leave. I still write letters and poetry about the hope I used to carry that one day he would come back to me, so I could be reminded again that I’m not easy to fall out admiration with. Sometimes I still cry over the pain I felt and sometimes I still get angry that it seemed so easy for him to move on but months later I’m still sad. That took a lot to admit to be honest, every time I remember our little moments I brush them off because admitting you still hope isn’t easy. But what am I learning in that? My worth is sky high, I am loved so deeply by Papa that finding my worth in anything else just doesn’t make sense, and one day the Lord’s promises to me will be fulfilled. I’ve learned to depend on Him in my weakest moments of doubt. 

I still doubt that I’m worthy and deserving of this life because of all the lies I told trying to protect my heart even though it was only damaging the very creation God intended. I still sometimes doubt that I am good enough to be leading a group of amazing young adults, that maybe my brokenness isn’t healed enough to walk in this much authority. That where I stumble I actually fall and trip so hard that the only thing left for me to do is stay on the ground shuttering at the very thought of ever getting back up. But what am I learning in that? Satan is incredibly and passionately terrified of me, He is so intimated and threatened by me that he constantly thinks he needs to put lies in my head to hold me back from the kingdom. Silly, silly shell of a fallen angel to think he has any ground in a soul that has been saved by I Am. 

In the amount of freedom I feel in every fiber of every bone in my body, I still stumble, I still fall short and I still question myself. I will never claim to be fully healed because truth is, I never will be. I will move on, more things will happen and I will continue to fight, continue to excel forward, because that’s the only thing I know how to do; not quit. We’re all a little broken, but we are promised freedom through our brokenness, because to Him, our brokenness is beautiful. I’ve run so far away from the idea of brokenness because maybe, just maybe I’m a little too of it, ya know? A little too broken to lead, for someone to fall in love with me, for me to passionately chase my dreams, a little too damaged to love again. 

Freedom is given to us freely. Read that again. He’s waiting for you to ask for it. Delight in your brokenness, invite Papa in and give Him full control, it’ll make the falls feel more like subtle trips and you will be so thankful.

I love you guys so much, thank you for being my safe place to be me, all my broken pieces and all. There’s freedom in your voice, so share it. 

Xo, Kenz