Your suicide left my soul
deep within smothering grief,
stiffening clay against purpose.
But God worked his tears
into my sorrow, softening
bitterness with his love.
Forming from this cherished clay
a testimony of love, joy, and peace
for those tempted to despair.
Frostbit by fear
I keep feeling
Dented by doubt
I keep driving
   Burnt by bitterness                                         I keep believing
   Taunted by trials                                           I keep trusting
Supported by scripture
I keep standing
because . . .
Condemned by cross
You kept carrying
Lifted by liars
You kept loving
Revealed by resurrection
You keep redeeming
Souls bubbling up,
gushing with undeserved love.
—the gospel of Spring.
i didn’t know this
was my starting place
until You ended my suffering.
This yanking war of soul and flesh
Soothed to peace by Your sacrifice.
I became a fledgling paragraph developing purpose
in the womb of just one word
hope
When demanding circumstances
have tattered faith and still
the needs of today grab.
You invite my soul to
sail. A sea of stillness,
where none can touch,
there restore with sweet
and salty parables of faithfulness.
Forecast called for blistering blues . . .
Shame soaked in a raging torrent of emotions,
I put on defiant dancing shoes and
shaped prolific pools of hopelessness into
a halo of dancing rainbows.
Until bones broke to life and support the
impossible flesh of my reality.
Writing Prompt: Downcast or Upcast
Psalm 43:5 Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why are you disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God.
Seems like there are an awful lot of words to describe depressed, but not a lot to describe the opposite . . .what is the opposite of depressed? Come up with words that reflect an “upcast” attitude and create a poem. Attach your page link in the comments and let’s cast a brighter light on depression.
Writing Prompt: Downcast or Upcast
Rocks crumble encouraging
gravity to finish thought.
But truth, confident with gritty fingers,
belays novice climbers
Reaching for impossible sunrises.
I attempted to stuff my depression into the racks of the church coatroom before
straightening my face into a well pressed smile.
You, who did not hide your sorrow from your Father,
had the usher bring my cloak of despair back to me.
Shoulders drooped as I slipped into the putrid pew of religious repetition
believing faith wasn’t ready to share my coarse reality. But scripture shook me
awake. The world needs my tears, struggle, and depression.
Believers sing the blues too.
I confess, I struggle to accept Your ways.
Bones, broken with grief, scream to give in.
But, You give sanctuary to my lament.
Questions are met with open goodness.
I am reminded, God put on the cloak of humanity
to understand me.
And, when I wear depression into the sanctuary,
It is an open invitation for others to be real with You.
Amid the fireworks,your little
hand slipped into crowded adulthood,
before your mind developed a sense of direction.
Grasping anything to garner comfort, but
fear is a poor companion.
Absence begged me to give up on you . . . but, what mother can?
I attempted a missing person’s report, but was
laughed out of the station.
“He’s finding himself, ma’amâ€. The experts scoffed, even as my
happy-boy flyers faded amid other bulletin board lost souls.
The exhausted search now buried . . .
And I hold tight to my Daddy’s hand,
so I don’t lose myself in the crushing mob of grief.
If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call the National Suicide Lifeline at 988 or go to the website at https://988lifeline.org/