Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

Sometimes we say, "my heart hurts," and we mean that we are in emotional pain. Of course that pain is very real, but I have had medication adjustments in the past few weeks and my physical heart is pounding differently. I feel it race some times; other times it just beats harder. I am not worried; I am confident my body will start working properly soon. (a few weeks - I hope not longer). Still it is uncomfortable, and I try to steady myself - to go a little slow, to not do things that might agitate me emotionally. It is hard to watch yourself so much, to be careful, to keep a buffer around you so that you don't get poked or tipped by others. It takes work, mental-emotional, and that can eventually be physically tiring. I simply want an easy life, simple days, happy times. Does anyone get that? Or is that a fantasy? I still believe that someone must, but those people probably don't care about others. They isolate themselves. They don't listen to the...

Rest is were life begins. Sit. Rest. Live. We can busy ourselves in life.... eating, cleaning, watching, texting, reading, writing, shopping, meeting, doing..... and never ever find life. Life is not what we make up it to be. Life is a gift - we only start living when we learn how to rest. As long as we lug around our hurts, our violators, our nemeses, our broken heart, our shattered dreams, and our mess.... we will never be able step into living life as it was initially meant to be for us. The life would should and could be living now! The only way to find rest is in God. Haven't  you tried so many other ways?  People do try so hard.... before they turn to God they try almost everything... or else they sit in a catatonic dullness of nothingness. Depressed. Exhausted. Near Dead. Cry out to God! Run to Him. Fall into His arms and His presence. In God, you will find rest for your weariness. God is real! Look around... everything you see... it is like livin...

So deep and wide - it all runs like rain. Still He comes, I can't get away.  Do not run from Him. Why, why wont He give up, just let me die... I am not sure, can't fathom why.  Why does He come to me?  One day I might .... one day I might... one day I might perceive. __________________ He Calls me, "Beauty"! And still it fell, down from His face, pierced the skin and it cut the vein....running from His veins, seeping, pouring...the power of His priceless perfect blood. He paid the price, the ransom for my life.  Still He bleeds, bleeds, bleeds for me. Why would anyone bleed for me? Do you see - that He bleeds?... He bleeds for me.... So intense, so real. Trying to end what another began.  It's not His fault, but still He pays. He bleeds for me. He covers me with the blood from His veins. So He bleeds; He bleeds for me. I don't understand why He bleed for me? Why did He have to die for me? I am not worth it; it's plain to see: dra...

His Blood For Me Bleed the pain... it pours like a heavy rain. And it cuts, feel the pain, it's so sharp. It's the raw edge of pain.When will it end? When will it run dry? Bleed No More..... when will I bleed no more. I know fear, and Fear knows me. I know death, he stares at me. He wanted to take my life, just a child, once upon a time an innocent me... once was... one time... I think, the word "child" was suppose to be, a description of me. No More! It's a lie, it's a lie, it's a lie. I can't die for myself. Stop the cutting, it will never really stop the pain. Each slash is another bar holding my soul in a prison within... going deeper... ever deeper, lost within. The glassy stare, the stone cold face, the numbing way she floats through space. Just a shell of who she could be.  It will never satisfy the gulf - the hollow lifeless agony.  How many others had it stolen away, like me, ripped in anger, punched away? Now be silent, ...