Dear Dad,

So I let go God. I let go of everything. This complicated mess, has been stressing me out since April of 2015. I’ve been blessed to survive the last 19 months, because of your amazing sovereignty. This has been probably the most challenging 19 months I’ve ever lived. There’s been so many giants, that you showed me how to rise as David and conquer. There’s been a lot of gains, and there’s also been a lot of loss. So much loss, that I didn’t think I would survive. I more than survived. I thrived, and evolved. I haven’t stopped evolving. I’m not going to stop. It’s not your will for me to stop God. Your will is for me never stop thriving, and to never stop growing.

I’m in service right now, and Pastor is talking about resting. That word resting is completely foreign to me. It’s an alien word. I haven’t really rested since April 2015. You showed me the entering storms coming to my life, in images I understood completely in January 2015. I balled like a baby, to the point my friends mom cradled me. I couldn’t express my comprehension God. You’ve been speaking to me like this, for as long as I could remember. I knew the storms, and wilderness coming. You showed me at a church service at my old church, where my friend’s mom cradled me because I was balling. Shortly after that my birthday came, and that was the day my grandmother entered your kingdom and left earth. That was just the beginning of my tears. I was crushed, but that was only the beginning of my wind pipes depleting. I’m still recovering from this pruning process. So many blows hit me after that moment. It’s kind of a blur now. But I never stopped trusting you, even though it’s really hard. My faith has been tested in such a way, that if I wasn’t walking this path I wouldn’t believe it myself. 

My new Pastor just said if there’s no trust then there’s no rest. Well then there’s my answer. I’ve been restless, because I’m struggling with a layer of trust that you just want me to give you. And I’m like looking at all of this, like how do you expect me to trust you’re in this insanity!? But you just consistently want me to trust you. And you God keep making everything more insane. Like I’m very open as a human, and completely comfortable being an open book to everyone around me. I completely understand, that my life is not my own. I fully comprehend that my walk is a story, meant for the eyeballs that see, and turn the pages that you write in my life. But this insanity according to me, involves other humans that I can’t speak for. I’m all about order. Your word is about order too. So I’m delicate in my expressions. 

My wrestle is real, the reels peeling from these feelings are my unraveling in this traveling of my story. You’ll get the glory. The chaise in my pace, is a race you God make me face. What’s a disgrace to me is your be, to flee the lies that ties these binds of worldly minds. But don’t you see, it’s time to flee this storm it is not a transform according to me. I can’t believe you God will achieve still, after all this time, without the rewind in my mind, the he you keep making me see will be set free from this wrong she. Nothing makes sense, I feel so dense, everything is a mess, silent violent years of fearful tearful mockery in this she who findeth not he misery. In this night community, it’s okay to not have godly unity, as along as man is a robotic munition annihilation in confinement, very far away from His Alignment. Because popularity is the reality, that’s chosen in this very broken token called night community. 

There’s no Clark in this dark. There’s no Kent in this dent. Wrong she is a Lois without her Lane. Wrong she is a villain like Batman’s Bane. Wrong she’s two year construction, is a never ending destruction. There’s no peace for this he you God, keep showing is for me. Even though I fled locations, because I refused to acknowledge the ruse, of that wrong hue of these two. They’re decaying disobeying damnation. Wrong she pressed pause on the cause of His All, manipulated and dictated this he’s fall. Creating the decaying mutating dismaying pitfall. Wrong she capitalized the assets, that this he got tripped up on, her voice was his choice. Her eyes was his mesmerize. This he inhaled the fumes, that lead him in this consumed whale. Pale scales prevailed for this ailing two strand land. 

Wrong she penetrated in this he’s hesitating isolation. In this wrong she’s timeframe, plotted in her clock as a dame, to get in this he’s space, playing up this he’s vulnerable mind, in this he’s lowest time of June 2015. A revolving no for wrong she became yes, and that’s when wrong she, confessed never to flee. The wrong boom boom took off. Decaying dismaying disobeying popped off. Night community, turned a blind eye. Truths were defused, lies made this he slowly die from his unaware internal cries. This he, couldn’t see. This he was in too deep, this wrong she was a calculating creep, that dug steep. Wrong she made plans, in the self made cultivating band. This cheap thrill, snuffed out this he’s Gills. This he could no longer be stronger in still. All that occurred from then until now, is a hallow swallow of no tomorrow quicksand. 

They’ll never be three strands, in this hue of wrong two. These rings will always sting. This cheap lemonade will never magically represent, the edification of His Renegade. This night will never be blessed with His Light. This missed mark of dark will never be blessed with His Spark. There’s no God in this flesh no mesh facade. These two will never be true, for His True is blue times two. His Stir will always be he + He + her. This mandate reporter of confetti will never replace, the space of these two broken empty. The false prophets that made it hobbit for this wrong hue of two, will never make this together forever. This wrong she is unaware that through it all, it is still a pitfall. This wrong she was always a reason season that’s temporary, dragging out the purpose of this wrong she’s exposing empty. This wrong she will never create confetti. This wrong she’s patrol is still God’s control. And what God allows will always make every knee bow.  

I declare I’m aware of your self care. I say yes in my confess of this restlessness. I repent for my resent, in your relentless pursuit of the purity in my security. You and I will never be apart God, you’ll always have my heart. So I welcome your sleep, and allow your rest. I let go of my distress. I edit my credit in my confess to profess, you’re my anchor. You’re my Lord of All. I choose to free-fall in this pitfall.

I’ll love you forever Dad. 

Love your daughter. 


2 thoughts on “Anchor

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