Words Repeating Patterns of Old
By Susan Vaughan Shumake
January 12, 2020
Why am I so tearful? Why is my heart so hurt? Living needing to perform or I am not of worth. Where have those words come from? I remember all from him. Blazing through my confidence, only if I win. I have lived rejected, carried grief and pain from my earthy father, decades long gone in the grave. I have learned he loved me that this was not his way, he loved without restriction but I had lived this pain. I am bound in turmoil listening to the lies. Lost within the turmoil of being judged by someone’s eyes. Every day I feel it, breathing from his past. Though he gives me freedom his heart is open glass. He wakes each day a workhorse, building dreams for all, I have been here suffering and I have not lived up to the call. I’ve lost all my direction, grieving life and plans. Cleaning out my closet, tossing dreams in garbage cans. Who am I, Oh Father, without works to be done? I haven’t accomplished, not a single one. You have set before me plans that I will do. I can do nothing, nothing without you. God I’ll set my eyes upon your unwritten path. Who is it I’m supposed to be and why am I so sad? Thank you for the freedom to work and do your will. Every work takes time I know, show me Father still.
Words repeating patterns of old, we are not who we are told.
