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Thursday, September 29, 2011

One Day, Please Let Me Sign

The more I fight grief, the farther I get away from myself.
I'm right here, grief. I am no longer ahead or behind you. I'm right here with you, holding your hand underneath this broken tree. I know when we stand back up we'll look across the horizon for that rainbow of promise. But not now. Until then, we'll grieve so that joy may come and increase.
I will grieve, but my grief will turn to joy. Now is my time of grief, but I will rejoice and no one will take away my joy. Not even you.
I'm dry. My faith is there, but I'm squashed flat and I have nothing left to give at this moment. I've been dried up. I want to love, but I can't the way I'd like to.
Sometimes I don't care, sometimes I swear to God. But He knows my tattered soul, He knows my broken heart.

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