Finding Solid Ground

Commitment has been something I’ve struggled with throughout my adult life. Maybe because I felt rejected or fearful, maybe because I based everything I chose to pursue on how it made me feel . I have come to know and make peace with the fact that I do feel things very deeply and that my feelings are not enemies, they can very much be my friends. But understanding the nature of emotions now, I realise that they are just that - in motion; they are always changing. They come and go, and rise and fall, so don’t make a very solid foundation to build a life on. I have experienced trying to build my life on a feeling and then watching everything I had worked towards come crashing down, as the fleetingness moved it from beneath my feet. It left me endlessly crushed and shaken, back at the beginning, grasping for anything to hold onto.

I now find myself two years on from surrendering my life into the hands of Jesus. And I have tasted and seen the beauty of committing to something that does not waiver. Unlike my emotions, Jesus is faithful. He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. He never changes. He never grows weary of picking me up when I fall. His love for me never lessens, He never changes His mind. He has chosen me, and because of that, by His amazing grace, I have chosen Him back.

Following Jesus hasn’t always been a smooth and easy ride. But the beauty of it is that even in my own weakness, in my own doubts and fears, He remains the same faithful one who pulled me out of the darkness two and a bit years ago. He is my anchor, and the one I hold onto when the realities of life hit; when grief strikes and when dreams die.

I can rest knowing that His foundation will never be swept from under my feet.

If I lose everything, I still have Jesus. And that is a precious gift.

‘Stories’ - A Poem

My parents used to read me stories

before bed, a cup of milk warmed

for one minute in the microwave and tales

of elephant families that I knew every line to,

I think, though, that I took for granted

when I was younger, the power in my expression,

the way that I can mould my body into the shape

of a story, twist my voice to mirror an emotion,

that there are a whole range of emotions, other than just sad

or happy, and I have lived them now,

I have lived the rejection, the depression, the magic,

the broken bones and recreating yourself entirely

after the person you loved enough to trust with every fibre of you

runs away and leaves you fractured at your core,

I understand now how actors only ripen with age,

how each experience is another word

in your vocabulary, each tear another droplet

filling your cup of empathy, each hole in your favourite jumper a story

of heartbreak, and I have only scratched the surface,

I think, I used to be scared of feeling

anything I hadn’t turned inside out and inspected

every inch of, now, I want to break open,

I’m scared, still, but i believe in it now,

I see the power in it now,

I see how women wearing their truths

have inspired girls like me to bear their own

how these tragedies unite us,

and how in a world that tells us to sit still, look pretty,

that tears us down

and pins us against each other,

the bravest thing we can do

is share our stories.