I need an attempt at real articulation. Without speaking in whispers to myself. I'm learning a lot about myself these days. There are some things that have been told to me enough that I'm starting to believe them. And repeat them, and that is a terrifying thing. According to my Enlightened friend Jeremy, who knows nothing of Jesus and everything of community, says I'm a connector. Says I thrive when I'm facilitating relationships, when I'm a piece between hearts and voices. My friend Stephen, called me a catalyst for community. My own heart tells me I am happiest when people are thriving around me, and I have a hand in that. But the picture of my identity is so muddled. I do not see my worth. I do not understand how love works.

Here's where things look less pretty. My heart loves until it aches, and usually until it breaks. When pain walks into the room, I cannot turn a deaf ear to it. I see it in their eyes and bring it to the pit of my own soul. I break break break, cry, weep, retch, and grieve. It's black and ugly and it starts to tear me apart, and some days I let it. And I sink my own love into dark and despair. Lately, I'm learning how to hold it, grieve it, and then thrust it upon YHWH. HERE, you take it. I can't hold this, I can't bear this, I can't heal this. And then I can be ok, and the soiled mist lifts and I can breath again.

And here is where circumstances and a fallen humanity drag me into hard places. Sometimes, I love someone. And they choose someone else. Some other girl, some other ear to listen, some other soul to thrive with, some other partner in crime, some other friend on a dark night, some other friend on a bright day. Or maybe they just choose to drink in my love, and do not love me in return. And that is the greatest betrayal of all. I have been picked over. And I don't know what your hand in that is, YHWH. Sometimes, maybe you hear my heart ache and you move in my reality and help me, and provide a better way. You say, that person's heart was going to continue to hurt yours, and I'm your Daddy and I'm jealously protecting you. Or I'm jealous of your love for that soul, love MY being. And sometimes I think you hear my heartache, and you weep with me. And you say, I know my love, it isn't fair. But you can't manipulate someone else's choice. You influence and you beckon and sometimes you even command, but you cannot make a heart love me, or you. You cannot bend a heart to love my own. It must hurt for you, too. It must hurt much more than I ever could.

So here's my honesty YHWH. I don't think it's fair. And I'm hurt and I'm angry that life has not been just. That people have not been just.

And I am at a crux. I cannot continue on as I have. Something must change or I will throw myself under the feet of others as an unjustified martyr, and I will let their indifference or their selfishness kill me. And it will not be for your glory, and it will not be for your good. So I've got to learn how to love with discernment, and care with wisdom. Maybe somewhere along the line I will have to love with an understanding of my own worth. But right now that is muddled, because I look to people to instill my worth and they have spit in my face. So I turn to you, but I'm so bad at hearing truth. It has to melt through scars and burn through cuts, it has to wrap itself around my doubt and shout and whisper and hold and beckon and prod and persist. And sometimes, just a little gets in. I like those days. I like seeing clearly and living truly.

YHWH, i fear that my worth has been trampled and I've let my unbelief shape my reality. I am fearful that what they say and do not do is shaped my reality. I am fearful that the damage is done and my worth is ruined.