Unconditional Love, Supernaturally Knitted

Below is a poem put together by two writing pieces of mine. It was a project for a class assignment that I miraculously put together in a matter of minutes. That’s not to say it was an effortless beauty I created. It’s to say it was divinely composed by God’s workings. You’ll see why.

Upon its creation, I was brought to tears. I witnessed none other than Holy Spirit communicating to me, to you, through the perfect alignment of these two writing pieces. All I did was write the two at separate times, with two entirely different ideas in mind. Then, this assignment asked to take a written-out dream, and fill in between the lines with a journal entry, present or past. 

I begin with the dream I recorded in regular font that I’d titled “(Not) Alive”. Weeks apart from each other, the journal entry (italicized) was recorded as I contemplated and prayed over understanding the Godly, Biblical approach to our “Relational Purpose”, as titled. 

Freeing my heart of the anguish, and releasing that attempt to control.

[Note: it’s not a forgiveness always needing to be discussed with the other person. Whether addressed or not, it begins with a heart forgiveness.]

Because who is rightful owner and facilitator of all control and judgement anyway? The Lord my God. Praise His name forever, we’re free from grudge and regret. 

Forgive the oddness of the dream, I know ya’ll experience bizarre, random dreams from time to time. It’s not all the time that we get to enjoy peeling back the curtain of Heaven to understand what they mean on a spiritual level. I recommend reading it all together and then each on their own (alternating lines) or vice versa! Enjoy in His glory displayed through this creation!

“(Not) Alive” Dream & “Relational Purpose” Journal Entry

I wake up into a nightmare.

[October 23, 2019] The purpose

Everything’s in disarray, things are pulled out from their organized spots

Of everything we’re graced with by God should be

hung up, strung out, scattered about, broken in pieces.

Intentioned to point back to Him

Old books, toys, decorations, clothes that I’d sold had returned.

To return, in thanks, praise, and worship.

Even my old dog was back.

That said, what’s the purpose of people, then?

My sweet pup, how are you here again?

How does interacting, discipling, loving, serving,

Why has all this destruction happened? Who did this?

Comforting, and receiving, point to Him?

My roommate arises from her slumber to enter.

By leaning on His power.

Her guess is as good as mine, but I’m hysterical.

Needing Him desperately

I’d worked so hard to tidy, organize, make an orderly, livable space for myself.

Just like in every other area

I rush out the door, seeking, to get to the bottom of it.

In life. Admitting failure to be able

Hopping in a run-down red Jeep I never knew I owned, I’m off like a jet.

To love others properly

The city is a hill of rollercoasters I never remembered

Needing his endless grace and loving abilities

streets narrower than a board game track.

To flow through us constantly.

Hurried bullets of honking cars

Constantly asking in prayerful refreshment

squeeze past one another

for such ability.  

up and down

Point back to God

all around myself as I barely keep up.

Worship Him through relationship

Soon I’m off on the shoulder of the road of the opposite side I needed to be on.

through conversation. Even if

I’m adjacent a gas station where I see my ex-boyfriend’s Jeep.

the gospel doesn’t need to be shared this time, maybe stories do.

I reverse as fast as I can for as long as I can.

Maybe experiences, testimonies, perspectives do.

Next thing I know he’s wailing in front of me, in the living room of a family’s home.

Loving them through efforts

It felt like my home, I lived there

on your side of the relationship

though not in this present time.

and receiving their love

It was clear to see it was a bigger, cleaner home, that could’ve only come from a future time

in an endless flow of Christ’s love which

when I obtained more money and had more humans occupying it maybe.

constantly improves one another.

The Ex cracks some jokes, then admits he’s having a baby.

If there is no growing between parties,

Surely another joke. Wrong.

let there at least be love.

The wailing begins, I’m consoling him, I do not know why.

Life’s not a ladder, no comparison,

My heart knows why, I’m aiding in the care for the hurting,

relationships are not ladders

regardless of whom.

to showcase the improvements,

I escape near old schools and workplaces through side streets and backyards.

but sometimes just to rest on a wrung

Closest entry back into that home, through the old neighbor’s backyard.

as long as it’s a wrung foundationally built

I got caught up having to take plunges over each layer

upon and through Christ’s love.

of the old couple’s massive pool.

Is it fear

I jump in, fully clothed,

to avoid certain personalities, mistakes?

slow-motion swim to the edge where it drops off into another layer.

I’d say, immersed

Layer and layer go by,

in the Holy Spirit’s grander love,

the old sweet lady comes out screaming.

that it’s not a running away,

I’m scolded, I present my best sob story.

it’s a running into protective arms.

She blesses me still with scolding temperament and

Arms of the Lord that promise

I vow to never enter again.

protection and never again returning to the hurt

To take the correct way back to my house.

that once tortured my former years. 

---

To be clear, this wasn’t to emphasize the hurts of the past. Rather, to accentuate how Jesus has allowed me not to be presently let down by those that let me down previously. That there’s no resentment or grudge blocking the love in my heart. The divine takeover of my heart to let go and let God.