Lost in My Thoughts

Lost in my thoughts I’m so lost in this walk,

It is as though every step I take a little piece of me breaks off

And I stand and wonder who this girl is that is traveling this journey

It’s not really me but society has become my reality,

I no longer differentiate, and that is why it is so hard for me to collate

The right words so that I can be heard…

There is so much going on in this world and I have a voice to speak

But I find myself becoming meek, when the times call for me to be bold

And each day I grow cold to the heart

Forgetting my art

Running away from what is hard

When the world is screaming MOON WHERE ART THOU…

Then I begin to wonder how I got here…

This shell of the woman that I haven’t even become yet

I don’t know what is so hard to get

I’m scared…

The world I live in…so full of sin and I fear that I am stuck within

No matter how hard I run towards salvation my soul there is no savin

And I will be lost among the ones that are hopeless and faithless

And I will just be left being less, less than I was supposed to be

Less than the real me

The me that he sees

No one will ever meet her….

Lost is what I am and I run as hard as I can

Trying TRYING to reach his hand

I see it being held out to me

And even though I run til my feet bleed, lungs burn and tears roll down my face

I just don’t quite make

The cut… and that painful feeling in my gut that says stop trying you won’t make it

I can’t take it!

I just wanna cry

I just wanna hide

I just wanna wake up and be in the sky

But I can’t because my voice means something to someone

Somewhere, they are waiting for me to be me

The me that he sees

The me that I have been running from

They call for me like a light in the darkness

As a beacon of hope faith love

They call for me

Lost in my thoughts…I’m not lost on this walk.

Self-discovery is what I see

Time to step in to the true me…

Because this little light of mine

No matter how surrounded by darkness it is

I shall let it shine

Because what is within me is divine

Is God, Is me

I am a part of the heavenly family tree

And the roots are so deep

That no matter where I run, walk, stumble, or fall

They will be there guiding me

Lighting the path leading me back to him

Back to the palace

Back to the place that he called me to

Back in his arms where I feel strong

And my light grows

Because I was never lost in this walk to begin with…



What is Broken Crayons?

Broken Crayons is one of my favorite concepts. Years ago my youth leader preached a sermon and the title was “Broken Crayons Still Color”. If I am not mistaken, I was either still in high school or in my first year of college when he delivered that message and it has stuck to me ever since. Imagine a fresh box of Crayola crayons given to a six year old that loves coloring. After about a month or so, you will look at those same crayons and some of them may be dull, others broken into two or more pieces, and some that have been colored all the way down to a nub. Usually, most people would throw those crayons away, but there is a program called Crazy Crayons that create hand crafted crayons, both multi-color and solid color made completely out of recycled crayons.

Those broken, dull, and ran down crayons are able to be re-purposed into brand new and unique crayons. That is the underlying message of this concept. In my short, almost 22 years of life, I have gone through things that I thought were going to be the end of me. However, every single time, I proved myself wrong. I took all of the hurt, heartbreak, pain, and trauma, and turned it into something beautiful, something I was proud of. I finally became comfortable with my scars, I became comortable with showing them and letting the world see the real me flaws and all. This series is my broken crayons story. I feel like me sharing my my “broken crayons” testimony will others to feel comfortable addressing their broken crayon story and truly seeing where they came from and where they can go with it. I can honestly say, I would not be who I am today without being a broken crayon at some point.

I hope this series is as therapeutic to you, the reader, as it will be for me, the writer.

Enjoy! and remember, “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” Psalm 34:18.

Who Am I ?

I love to write. I love to hear confirmation that my writing is good, great, inspiring. I love the feeling that I get when I realize that people want to hear what I have to say. Its like what I would assume what being high feels like. Something like euphoria it makes me want to write more so that I can share more, but lately that isn’t what I want. I want to be selfish and keep my writing to myself. I want to close my mind off to the general public and only a select few are allowed to get a peek through the cracks of my mind. I had actually gotten to a point that I didn’t want to write period…

I can’t do that to myself! Writing is my only identity. If I put down that pen no one will remember me. I will just be another easily forgotten person and I know that as a fact. I mean…look at me now. The only thing about be I know with no doubts is that I am a writer. It hurts when I don’t write. I get headaches when I can’t get the words in my head out. Part of me feels that, that is God’s way of telling me not to give up on this that I have to keep writing no matter what, and who am I not to do just that?

It is hard though. Battling the thoughts in my head that are telling me that my writing isn’t good enough, that no one is impacted, that there are people that are way better at this than me and that I should just shut up and not share. I try to combat these voices but it isn’t easy. There is a mental fight that I have with myself just to be able to open my mouth and speak up…but I do truly wonder if anyone really hears me when I do speak up, are they listening, will something change, or will it just be nice words on paper. That is enough to make me afraid to put my pen to paper. But like I said…I love to write.