So tired of being my worst enemy…
Of having a thousand ideas of how to bring the Father glory
Bring me into the realization & fullness of my heart’s deepest desires…
But every time, every single time
I’ve let the lesser me: the me that’s afraid
The me that’s too guilty, too nice, too angry, too ashamed and accusing
The barricaded me holed in by all the walls and habitual modes of self imprisonment
The me with hands sticky, stuck to putting it off by putting it down
Feet: two heavy bricks the tongue dared not be strong enough to lift…
All that focus, all that drive, a must
Just to get one more mile down the hallway of years.
Exhausted by the dream turned nightmare
Of all the hundreds of ways
Possible & dancing through my mind
About how to bring the thousand ideas of glory to being…
(The dream is only guiding when it’s no longer dreamt about)
It’s time to get up
Raise my hands in surrender
Go barefoot, finally, on the golden sands of purpose.
On the San Diego shore, in the San Diego sand I came to bury this lesser state of mind.
I dig a grave and engrave the headstone like this:
“Here lies all the lies about who I thought I had to be.
Safety, Love, Provision, Purity, Acceptance, Brilliance, Sight, Voice, and Touch
All the birthrights I release through the digging and infilling of this hole.
I funeralize the dream today and get myself up because it is time.”