All I have

I remember why I pray.
In moments like these when all my emotions and feelings threaten to tear me apart, when I feel like all I can do is scream or else lose my mind, I remember why I pray.
I remember why in a world and life full of so much confusion and doubt and defeat I choose my Jesus to save me everyday.
Its that love.
How constant that love is.
Its knowing I can rise and fall and it will be there regardless, always faithful, always warm, always true.
I remember that regardless of how hard the storm rages on the outside he give me peace. Such inexplicable peace that sometimes I laugh at how impossible it should be.
Its that grace and that power that can only be of God, the strength through Christ, the comfort, the beauty of his majesty.
Its all so amazing because I do not deserve any of it. I am so big a sinner, even in my dreams I sin. And yet, when I pray none of that matters. Because when I am weak he is my strength, when my faith is shaken he is always and forever constant.
In my deepest and darkest moments I remember my God, I remember the gift of his son on the cross, I remember the Holy Spirit that had been poured into me, I stand on his promises and I remember that all things work together for good for those who love the Lord. But most most importantly, I remember to pray.

Walked Away on Bday

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. So much so that im not enough. He needs a shorter version, a submissive one and a freaky version of me in order to love me completely. He cant find all that in one though, so he has four of us that he loves as if we were one.
It wasn't always like this. There was a time when I alone was all he ever needed. That was when all he knew was the best of me; funny, smart, with no care in the world. Adventurous and supportive, lady in the street and no inhibitions between the sheets. Who wouldn't love such a woman?.
Except im only human and made of more than sunshine and rainbows. That was the trigger. He used to love how I was as sharp as a whip but now it's that im too opinionated, too challenging, too proud. So he found one who would take his words for gospel truth without doubt or question. Because my ambition goes past just dressing up and looking good on his arm he found another to make him look good- publicly. I command and demand respect so he got one more who had laid her self esteem down by the river side. I am flawed but he stuck around and loved me the only way he knows how, with others in tow.
He loves me. He loves me not. Somehow ive always known he never really did. Not when it counted. He loves the version of me he has created for himself. The me that I see myself becoming in the name of compromise.
But does this man even know me? If he did he would know how I cry myself to sleep every night trying to understand how I could have been so wrong. He would know that I know im only still here out of fear of unknowns. The truth is wether he loves me or not is irrelevant because I have not loved him since my last birthday.

Best of Me

She has the kind of beauty that defeats both science and nature, height that justifies the invention of heels and a mind so brilliant its sinful.
You're thinking I can only be describing perfection. Im not. She is afraid of babies. So much so the idea of babysitting is probably the quickest way to trauma village. She is never on time for anything- typical female, will binge on chips or fries depending on what continent you're on and dont even think of taking her to a braai. I could explain but I still need my fingers.
Now you're thinking too much work. Maybe. But she handles it all by herself. She is one of the most determined, most autonomous, most independent person there is. The girl can do bad all by herself.
Strong headed, yes. Pride so bad its retrogressive and honesty so brutal we are looking into protective services.
She's daring and strength embodied, adventure and fun and laughter and intellect. She is that morning coffee, that refreshing glass of orange juice, the happy hour cocktail, the beer with the guys and sometimes even the warm glass of milk to send you to bed.
She is my person. The friend that knows my shadow better than me. The family I love and hate. She is my voice of reason, my biggest fan and the best part of me.

Mars

He is her most beautiful memory. His laugh, the watch on his wrist, the scent of his cologne, the shy smile he wears when she pays him a compliment. She never had him and he may never be hers but no one can claim her memories of him. They are her own.
She will always smile when she recalls how it took him longer than her to get ready to go out because he couldn't make up his mind on what to wear. She will never forget how she felt when in his arms they danced the night away. Or the look of fascination and intrigue in his eyes when he learnt there was layers to her. The gratitude she felt when he didn't stop trying to find a door or even a window to the wall of Jericho she had built around her.
If they ever were, if he were ever hers, she knows they would be beautiful. And easy. Everything with him is easy, even getting angry but more than that was how easy it is to let go of the anger.
But he is not hers. And may never be. The memories are hers. Her feelings are her own. The happiness that won't let her forget, thats also hers.
When its no longer enough she remembers how he is afraid to go to bed with his socks on because he believes he would die in his sleep, how he made her feel beautiful even when her hair was a mess. She remembers the multi purpose ring he wears on his finger and she smiles.
She will take away the best part of him- the memory of him.

He continues to raise me

You think you know pain when you are four and your mama wont get you your favorite toy so you whine about how unfair life is because the neighbours kid has twice as much stuff as you do.
But mamas not the enemy because she sits by your bedside when at five you have the chicken pox and the other moms wont let their kids come over. Every time you wake up panicking and scared she is there to calm you down and tell you she'll always be there.
But see mama lied because one morning you woke up and daddy said she'd watch you from the heavens. At six years old thats either a fairy tale or a joke.
But life goes on and daddy does his best to be mama and papa bear for his two baby girls. Half the time he is second guessing every decision he makes wondering if he is doing right by his cubs. But he stands firm and stays strong because in their eyes he sees the love he once knew with the woman he once had.
Now they're lionesses in a jungle he fought his whole life to protect them from. He knows he has done all he can do for them so all he can do now is pray. So he takes a knee and closes his eyes and asks the God he has come to lean on to keep them safe from a world he has no control over.
They dont always understand. They don't always accept his help. They dont see how much it kills him when he can't stop their hearts from breaking from first loves or old flames or little boys trying to get lucky. They don't see how it cripples him when he cant stop the tears from falling. Or when he can't get them the dream job. Or that dream car with that dream life. They think he is self righteous. That he doesn't listen. They will never understand that underneath it all he is just a man trying to hold on to the love he once knew with the woman he once had. They will never understand that he will never be done raising them.