Withheld Words

Take me back to when I was a child
Where the insecurities hadn’t found me
To when I was oblivious and free
From the weight of responsibility 
No one told me that as an adult
I would fail under pressure
And no one knew that I’d become
Afraid and insecure
I’d like to know what I’d be like
I’d like to know if I’d be different
If my childhood growing up 
Had an alternative previously written
I cannot place the blame
For I’ve never had all the answers
But I know there’s things I wish I could change
That I know would be for the better
Do you believe me when I say
That I’m not like this in my head?
My actions have always lined up with
All the things I’ve said
But you haven’t heard the half of it
I am better than you think
I’m afraid that as I live my life
Half of me will continue to sink
This breath I keep replenishing
Always forces me to live
But I find no joy in having to withhold
The words I want to give

~ olivia jane

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So why am I still standing here?
Why am I still holding back from You?
You've given me a faith that can move a mountain
but I'm still playing in the sand
building little kingdoms that'll never stand
I hear You call me out into deeper waters
but I settle on the shallow end
I’m so tired of standing here
What if I gave everything to You?

The only place where I can experience a revelation from God is when I reach the point of coming to myself and asking why am I still standing here?
Like the prodigal son, who realises that he is in a pig pen eating the food of animals when the least in his father's house gets better than this. (Lk 15:17-20)
What am I doing?
Chasing the desires of the flesh only outlines the emptiness in a heart, the place where only water from an endless well can fill.
But my heart is not the well, Christ is, and the only way that I am satisfied in Him is if I continue to draw from that everlasting well.
The well of life.

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Love blinds. Emotion blinds. Ignorance doesn't know and apathy doesn't care.
"Can beauty come out of ashes?" - Ashes, Celine Dion
I have so much at my fingertips directly from my heart but it's so difficult to get that out on a page.
You can't wake someone who is pretending to be asleep. And I know that, so I don't know why it makes me so angry when they won't wake up. I suppose it's not my job to keep people awake, to keep them on the straight and narrow. I'm not God. But when does my personal responsibility end and theirs begin?
What do you see?
"Everything. That is my curse." - Sherlock Holmes
It is better to see everything and feel it all than to be ignorantly blind and not have to suffer seeing anyone else's pain.
Maybe they are blind because they wouldn't be able to handle sight.
Can alcohol and sweet food bear your burden? Or do they hide, for a little while, the ache, the pain, the feelings, the want, the desires you are too afraid to endure? How does numbing heal a wound if you just let it fester? I can't bear your burden if you aren't vulnerable.
"Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ." - Galatians 6:2
I've had to do hard things. Everyone has had to do hard things. You just have to be brave enough.
"If you fail under pressure, your strength is too small." - Proverbs 24:10
Do you think you can cure your inner longings with yourself? Like trying to chase out darkness with more darkness.

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That’s when my pride 
rang the doorbell 
to my false humility:
all the guilt had piled on
the coals upon my head,
and all I knew was that 
I knew full well they couldn’t see
that their intention of praise and glory,
I had turned to shame instead.
So honestly I opened up 
my infected wounded pride,
and everyone saw to their surprise,
the angry child inside.
For I’d often take to beating her
when the golden idol flaked,
and giving her the third degree
for whatever was at stake.
But the mask was never guilty,
it was glad to hear applause;
whenever it would show its face,
the crowds would beg for more.
Yet I never thought to consider myself
an enemy to love;
my pride became the crowds I pleased,
not the audience above.
For as the whipping girl hides away,
and sees my hollow victories,
she shouldn’t have to bruise herself
to find the gracious me.
I know we all have better sides
that we use to gain approval,
but that little girl is really me!
How could I be so brutal?
So maybe if I’m a little kind,
and lay my weapons down,
maybe she could hold my hand
as I help straighten her crown.

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Selfish Love

Do you see the way your love is all about you?

When they say self love,
this isn’t what they mean.

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Break Perfectionism

I'm tired of being ashamed of the words I write that I know to be true.

Break perfectionism.

There are things you can’t do perfectly.

Do them anyway.

Break perfectionism by celebrating with the God who celebrates you, despite your imperfection.

Read out loud, though you stutter. (exodus 4:12)

Be honest about how you feel, though it seems silly. 

Write and share blog posts & words you’ve written even when you don’t think it will make a difference because you could be saying some things wrong and people will miss the point because you’re not articulating yourself properly.

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Prodigal Me

He sadly shakes his head as he watches me walk down the road;
Away from his heart, away from my home,

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