as the callouses are ripped off…

is this what it feels like to be emptied?

every insecurity spilling messily onto the ground, trickling down my shirt, staining the fragile fabrics of my friendships. i saw lines in my face today as i cleaned the tears off my face again. fuming…shattering…weeping.
attacked and hid from oblivious faces, puzzled faces, smilinggrinningcheery faces. except sometimes they make me spill more and more. they ask me to spill all of it. some of them ask. nobody ever asks. and when i spillspillspill. i think i’m empty now and waiting for Him to fill.
every ugly is a new head sprouting from my neck. every angry is scraping at my insideflesh. and tears tears. i’m a pimple being squeezed. get the nasty out so i can heal? so i can heal? i can heal?
God has me. like a trinket-child in his hand. guiding. in his hand hiding? but i’m laid almost bare and raw. washed raw by the waters. purifying. burned raw by the fires. purifying. some parts dying. oh what a woman am i! weighed down by callouses? freed of the callouses…. sore without the callouses.

plenty more tears. but i feel empty tonight. numbed with balm but waiting for the fight. each touch sears. i’ve been scoured clean. tried to pour it all free. and wanting now. he takes, ravishes so he can lavish, overwhelm, satisfy what i forgot i might need. i asked for things and forgot we’d spoken ….. he’s reminding me.

less of me tonight. not much of me tonight. erratic me tonight. and weeping for an hour as they talk living words and kingdom love. kingdom love that tortures tiny me as it pushes these walls. and wisdom is first pure (not simmered with anger), then peaceable (not lashing, attacking, self-protecting), reasonable (not suspecting and believing and so behaving), full of mercy (not waiting, demanding they do as i please….. better being tortures me. it’s a sword. it’s dangerous. it cuts you know? maims. if the right hand is causing you to sin…….

less of me tonight. callouses gone. emptying now. erratic apologetic hurting still.

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