January 4 – Why Didn't It Happen to Me?
Make it come out, it's too much, too much to bear
Need it out now
Desperate
Tear, rip, pain, sweet relief, grief, embarrassed, angry, pain
Never ending cycle
Needle pricks, razor dance, drug embraces, scars and scabs
Why this? I ask, looking at tangles of hair and bald patches,
Why this and not those?
January 5 – Shreds of Doubt
Trust, something precious, meant for those close to your heart and soul, something to be treasured
Something so easily broken, shattered like glass, hurting the giver like a twisted knife
Something not easily fixed, years of cautious glances and shallow relationships
Never again, you say, never again
For who can heal a broken heart, beaten and brusied?
January 6 – Can't Be
Babies don't die
Grandmas and Grandpas do, the old people at church
They die, not babies
Babies don't wear wires
Wires belong in toys or robots
They're not alive, not babies
Babies don't live at hospitals
At first, yes, but not years after
Newborns, not babies
So why are you there, people crying all around?
All the machines not making sounds?
And you are there, so still?
You can't be gone, right?
You're just a baby…
January 7 – Where Will It Be Found?
In a mother's eyes
A father's pride
The compassion of children
The embrace of lovers
The slow dance of the old
The giddy laughter of the young
The scarred hands of the Savior
Love…where is it found?
January 8 – Three Reasons
1. To safe myself from heartbreak
2. To show him that he was worth the wait
3. Because my Father wants the best for me
January 9 – Chance
Leave it up to chance, people say. Fate. Destiny. Chance. Call it what you will, but it's getting me nowhere fast. Lady Luck's never been a friend of mine. Good thing I've got a better friend, huh? Thing is though, it's had to let it all go to Him. I know He's got my heart in His hand, and loves me beyond belief, but it's hard to give up 'control'. It feels like I'm leaving up to chance…
January 10 – Essence of Living
To be living, but am I alive? Wake up, go to work, serve others, come home, eat, sleep, repeat. Where's the thrill, the purpose? When did life become routine? Like something I drift through, a random witness in an endless ocean. Am I alive, or just living?
