ELIZABETH SIMPSON

m i s s i o n a r y -- k i d

How is one even supposed to begin to move after being told that he or she was a mistake?

One of the most terrible things that you can tell a human being is that they were a mistake, that they have no purpose. Because, you see, most likely that person was trying with every fiber of their being to be enough. They probably invested everything into that relationship, project, etc. So, for someone to say that they were a mistake no matter how much they believed in what was happening, for someone to say that it was a mistake, well that is a soul crushing statement.

And it is one that leaves you with a broken heart. It drains you of every strength you had. It plants doubts into your mind, and keeps you from fully trusting. It echoes into the depths of your being, and destroys all hope.

There I said it.

Rockin’ my world with the basics.

I started out today with making breakfast for myself, and watching Zissou lay on the porch. I paused. Oh, how I can get so caught up in the business of life. But not today. Today I enjoyed the drive to my classes. I calmly went to work. I had some Salvadoran coffee at one of my favorite places. The college called. I walked around the neighborhood, then made some mac and cheese. I finished today with the brewing of Colombian coffee, and baking a carrot cake.

I paused, and chose to live the now. Because it is all I have in this journey of healing and pursuit of belonging.

I have said those three words too many times. I have written countless empty words as an attempt to create. I have sung too many songs. But the air is becoming more crisp, the mornings are cooler. Oh, Autumn, would you come and push away the regrets of summer?

//Visiting Union with a Brother

I am but a fickle soul
Tossed to and fro
Never able to settle.

Doubts creep into my mind
Destroying any security
Leaving me with a hard heart.

Then I remember to hope
My spirit soars into freedom
Only to feel the shackles I have.

Oh, how I want to fly now
To feel the Liberty of self-expression
Alas, I am but a fickle soul.

Once, 
we bought poetry 
and read to each other 
for hours. 
Now 
I read poetry 
by myself.
I don’t think 
we survived.

//vulnerabilidad

I am looking for answers to the questions that have broken my heart. I am looking around, as if maybe the answer is staring me in the face. I am looking back, but I cannot make sense of even one day of summer. I am looking for the answers that will bring healing, strength, or some sort of break from the crippling hurt. I am looking up. I am attempting to hold on to the glimpses of the Holy, Holy, Holy God. Oh, how easy it is to simply hold on my own heartache. For my soul grows faint, and the confusion is pressing in.

But this cannot be it. Life cannot be all about chasing ghosts, sleepless nights, haunting memories of love. No! This loneliness and brokenness is not the end. These must be a vessel to see something greater. Ah, alas! Life is about glorifying the Creator. I have found an answer. My soul breathes, for I know what I must do.

I must unclench my fists, let go, and praise the LORD. This I must do every day.

Last night, I watched “Under the Tuscan Sun.” It is certainly not on the same cinematographic level as “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,” but it has brought the same comfort. Both of these movies are a time of learning to be strong. Caring words, beautiful scenes, and incredible epiphanies. I cannot pick out any favorite quotes for the whole movie(both of them) are my favorite. They have encouraged my soul, reminded me to not give up, and challenged me to get up from the ground.

So, once again, with earth-stained skin I stand. Maybe it was the haunting look in Patti’s eyes when she desperately asked how it could be possible to breathe again after someone leaves you. Perhaps it was Mitty’s courage, and his journey up those snowy mountains. Or simple the imagery. But there was something in he bravery of the characters that stirred something deep inside my soul. It moves me to be bold. Today I dare to keep going. I dare to prove him, the enemies, and society wrong. I dare to dream of Tuscany and the rarely visited lands where Mitty went.

Let us pursue that sense of completion, as my friend would say, and learn how to keep breathing.

awritersruminations:

Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society (1989) (via zimas)