Spotted Nubian Nanny Kids!

Here are my new babies!!! A picture of the mamma is at the bottom... yes she really did give birth to these two girlies!!!

Into the Mind of the Hurting...

I have been asked on several occasions why I (a foster/adopted/abused kid) acted the way I used to... Why did I go out of my way to hurt or destroy... why I just didn't seem to understand obedience... and then why I just couldn't seem to get along...

Well...


The answer to those questions are fairly easy to answer...


I came from a place where hurt and destroying was just a normal occurence... I was hurt and I had my trust destroyed again and again. I didn't have a clue about obedience... the only obedience I had to learn was- "If I beat... you don't make a sound or I will beat harder." or "Don't cry... just shut up and take it." So I did obey... I never cried... I never made a sound when I was in pain. (even to this day I will not make a sound if I am in enough pain. I just stay very silent.) So I did learn... just not what most good parents wanted me to learn.

My rebellion early on was not totally my fault. Yes, I did allow my anger to play in alot, but I was not planning like the evil villians in a movie do... "muhaha, if I slap this little girl then mom will be mad... muhaha I am gonna do just that." No, my thinking went more like this... "That dumb girl just won't leave me alone... she makes me mad... and whatever consequence I get is not too bad... just as long as I get that girl to go away."

I still remember one time when I was washing dishes, (I was about 8 or 9) and I had to wash mom's coffee cup... I washed... just "forgot" to rinse it. So there was some soap in the cup. I asked mom if I could get her a cup of coffee... she said sure, so I went happily to get her a cup of coffee. I handed the cup to her and sat down on the couch to eagerly wait and see what kind of explosion I had created.

She took a sip...

I crossed my fingers and toes...

She set the coffee cup down...

And you know what? She didn't say a dang thing! She just got up, poured the coffee out, rinsed the cup and got her a new cup! Talk about a disappontment! Here I was, so eagerly waiting for her to jump up and scream in my face telling me I was doomed to washing dishes until hell freezes over! Not that I enjoyed washing dishes, but it was a bit funny to watch her face get all red.

One time I had accidently participated in a cat trying to take a bath in the fountain... and mom had accidently decided to scream at me. Asking "WHY!" to everything I had spoken. She got in my face and proceeded to yell... I stepped back and looked her in the eye and said, "Mom, you just spit all over me." I mean I was REALLY nice when I said it!! She paused for a moment then begin to lick my face! I was not happy about that... That was not too fun...

I have been asked why I would hurt mom when she nicely provided a home for me. But I have always wanted to ask them why they thought I deserved a home. Why do I, really deserve a home? What have I done that meant that HAD DESERVED a home? I never deserved anything before, I was told that I was stupid, worthless, and I was hated. My bio mom would strangle me and tell me how much I had ruined her life... I was the stupid one... I didn't even deserve the food in my stomach. From then on, food never entered the house.

When I moved to my adoptive family's house, I knew who I was...
I was the unwanted... unloved, I deserved pain. Everything I went through was because I deserved it. I ruined my mom's life. It was my fault that I was so ugly that no man would ever fall in love with me.

I was told that for 7 years... so how was I supposed to change automatically and fall madly in love with my mom because she offered a home? Why should I have cared? Tell me, should I have clung to mom and told her of my undying love and decide to obey every rule she had?

No!

Because how could I tell you what it is like to be adopted if it was all so easy? How would I have found strength to get up and find the courage to forgive my past for what had happened? I had to learn... and in order to learn, one must push limits and see just how far they can go. Just like a two year old... so I did.

It doesn't make me stupid or dumb... I just had to learn.

My learning experience was a bit tough... due to never learning and anger... Along with some negative feelings about myself. What I don't think alot of people understand, is alot of my thinking wasn't my fault. I didn't wake up one morning and decide to think "hey, I want to think I am worthless... so I am worthless."

What is spoken over you, you just naturally assume it is true... this mostly is true if you are a youngster. So please I hope you can understand that it is a bit tougher to be a child of abuse then a kid that has never experienced pain. If you choose to adopt, then don't be suprised if that kid shows their true color. Teach them who the boss is and go with it.

It is very important to make sure that kid knows that you are the boss. You make the biggest decisons... you are the parent. Don't beat them senseless, trust me, I am sure they have had more of that then they need. Train them like you would train a abused pet. With love, care, and boundries.

If you teach them that way... That kid will never forget you.
They may not become as good as you want them to be... but inside them they will know that they did have a chance to a better life... and someday they might even turn to that...


I hope this can help you help those of us who hurt... Those of us who confuse you and those of us, you just don't seem to understand...

To help you get...



Into the Mind of the Hurting...


Marie J.

In My Mind...

I sit here alone…


Pondering…


Wondering…


I am 16… no longer a child… not yet an adult...

I am a young woman…

My heart feels torn…

I wonder about my life ahead… what will I be? Where will I go?


It is a bit frightening… but more exciting… I remember when I used to wonder if I would ever make it to 13… Well… I did… I made it past 13… For I am 16 now… I am at the age my mom was when she gave me life… It is kinda weird, if you know what I mean… to think my mom is only 16 years older than I am. I cannot imagine myself with a newborn… That just seems so… foreign. I wonder what I would do if I did have a newborn… I hope I would give that baby a better life then what my mom gave me. I hope I would shower the baby with hugs and kisses… love. Something that was not introduced to me until I was 7 years old…


Love scares me… It is painful… terrifying… confusing… What is love… really… what is love? I hear that God is love… but if you don’t know God… then what IS love? Is it a being… is it a feeling… or is it something so out of this world that nobody really knows for sure.


What you are reading… is what I process in my mind daily…
What is God? Who is God? Where did He originate? I hear some say He came from the unknown… but where is the unknown? Why did He choose to create the world…? How long did he alone? Why did He create me? What purpose do I fulfill? How long until I find out?


My heart is torn… why? I am not sure… It hurts at times… sometimes I wonder if life will get any better… Where there is no pain in one day… Maybe that just isn’t life… Maybe you have to feel pain to make you pursue a better way… I think in some ways… we are just like some animals… when we train our animals we look for ways to help them pursue the right thing… Like when we try to train a horse to lead… Do you stand in front of the horse and wait for it to decide to follow you? No, if the horse has not learned how to follow, you have to apply pressure around the nose and ears… Inflict just a little pain to make them take that one step away from the pressure… I think that is what happens to us… There is pressure in our lives… to make us pursue the right thing… To make us take a step towards the better way. It is up to you on when and how you do that…


I am a artist… I love to create… to bring a piece of paper into life with just a pencil… Have you realized that people try to be like other people? They don’t want to find themselves… instead they try to look, act, talk, walk like other people. They want to acquire someone else’s mannerisms… Instead of cultivating their own… Well, you might be thinking how that has to do with my art… I will tell you how that plays into this…


When I begin to draw, I start out with basic lines… that is all just plain ol lines… Well, if I want my drawing to come to life I have to apply the shading…but what if I didn’t apply the different dark and light shades? What if I just colored my drawing with just one pencil and I didn’t shade and lighten it? There would be absolutely no definition… not dark lines to even give you a hint at what I was trying to draw… The whole piece of paper would just be grey… Sounds boring right? That is the way we people try to be… so what is the difference…


What if I begin to draw a tiger… I would have to make sure that some of the lines stand out… I would have to make it darker… different. To make my drawing come to life I have to add differences… I have to apply dark and light… To make them come together. That is what makes my drawings amazing. When I show you the finished drawing… do you automatically look at the differences as something weird? One line is a tad bit darker than the other… one part of the face is lighter than the other… One whisker is shorter than the other…


We need to be ourselves… Find who YOU are and be that person… Don’t try to be like some star or even your best friend! Why be boring like that? There already is a Carrie Underwood… why try or even wish to be like her? Why would you want to be boring?! She is who she is because she is not like other people… she does not spend her life trying to be like some other beautiful star. Be YOU… be unique… be something that people actually admire! Trust me… I know that there is at least two if not more things that I would admire! Maybe your eyes… I LOVE eyes… especially when they are shining with self-confidence… So do yourself a favor… and save yourself from embarrassment- be you!


I am 16… just a young woman…


I am like most other 16 year old young women… I wonder who I will marry… I get all giddy at times when I remember that God is still grooming my husband for me… sometimes I think God should hurry up because I am a bit excited to know and meet this young man… then I think… good things are worth waiting for…


Like other young women… I struggle… I am not afraid to admit that sometimes I anticipate sex… sometimes the urge is rather strong… sometimes I long to kiss a guy… just once because I am curious… what does it feel like? But, I remind myself that I would be stealing from my husband… my first kiss is for him and him alone… I want him to have all of me… with no other man’s mark… I want to be clean and pure… I belong to my husband and I will wait for as long as need be… because I am his and he is mine… I don’t want to share him with some other young woman… so why should I let some other man use my body? I can’t… and I won’t… I will wait because I love my future husband… and that is what love does…


I have been told that it is silly to save my first kiss… I am a teen; I should go and have fun before I am tied down with a husband… Why at my age I am all primed up! Of course, sometimes I think… that does sound fun… but what happens when I stand before my husband someday and I tell him that he doesn’t kiss me the way some other guy did? He doesn’t hold me the way so and so did. What if I don’t tell him… but I think it? Poor guy… he wouldn’t know how to act! Our marriage wouldn’t last long because while he thought he was loving on me… I was standing there thinking… His kiss is not quite like so and so… maybe he needs to lean in a bit more… No! I will not do that to him! So no… I will not go out and make out with some dude that I cannot see myself marrying! I am saving my kiss… my self-pleasures for my husband! I am willing to risk friends and fun for keeping my commitment sturdy.


Besides… since I have never kissed a boy and never had sex, then my husband would be the best kisser AND the best lover I have ever dreamed of! Now THAT is something to look forward to!


This is my mind… what goes through me daily…

I am a 16 year old young woman… fighting to stay pure and godly. I am refusing to become like other girls… I am who I am… This is me and I hope that what I have wrote will encourage you, whether you are a young man or a young woman… old or middle aged…


I am 16… and this is what is…



…In My Mind…



~Marie J.~

Almost There...

I close my eyes and let out a sigh...

My heart hurts... it feels so torn... So many questions racing in my head... Fear and excitement pulses in my blood. Nothing is the same... everything has changed.

I am no longer a small girl... and I am not yet a adult. My heart races when I think about my future...

I am almost there...

I remember wondering if I would ever make it to 13... I thought that perhaps I would be dead... but I was wrong. Now, here I am- almost a adult... so very close.

I am proud of what I am... I worked so hard to come this far. I have felt pain... and I have felt hope. I have seen some things that some may never ever see... I have lived close to death... and experienced life. I have played with darkness... and thrived in light.

I am a young woman... and I fight to keep myself pure and chaste for my future husband. Sometimes... I goof and do something or even say something that isn't the best thing to do for someone staying pure. But, I don't let that dim my vision and chase for purity. I have come this far...

I am almost there... I will continue to go further... to get there...


2 Timothy 2:22- "Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, peace, and love with those who call upon the name of the Lord with a pure heart."

~Marie J.~

Not Me...

Not Me…

I lower my lashes to keep you from seeing my tears… the pain… Confusion rushes through me, why am I this way? Why am I so different? Why do I view life so differently? Well, I will let you know why… if you continue to read this…

 

  Close your eyes and try to imagine, sitting alone in the dark… so cold… so hungry… so afraid… Your skin is so cold; there are no goose bumps on your skin. Your breath comes shallow and you try to warm your cold hands.  Ignoring the ticklish feeling of lice in your hair, on your face, on your eyebrows…

Your stomach is numb with hunger, you long for food. Anything… just one morsel… one crumb. You began to salivate as you imagine the taste… the texture… the warmth of one piece of cereal.  Your body burns from the lashes of the belt your mother beat you with. You eyes burn with unshed tears, and your grit your teeth to keep them from coming. You begin to think about your hatred… the anger towards the whole world. You ask yourself, “Why me? What did I do for mom and dad to hate me?” You shiver silently, begging your eyes to not let the tears go… because if you did… Mother would mock you… hitting you again and again…

Imagine the absolute terror of your father’s footsteps… as he comes into your room. He begins to hurt you… again and again.  You bite back your screams… you blink away your tears… your eyes roll back as pain fills your body… the ache… the numbness that soon claims you. A whirling darkness… so safe… so calming… you begin to relax… there is no pain now, only a dull ache inside. This… is your hiding place…

You come to your senses… and father has collapsed on top of you… you wiggle away, careful to not stir him… then you crawl to the darkest corner. Your stare at father’s still form on the floor… a finger twitches… then another. Your legs are covered in blood, your body aches horribly and your stomach churns. Flinching, you get to your feet… stumbling… tiptoeing… you ease to the closet… Where there is darkness… there is a hiding place…

You begin to forget about being hungry… you no longer fantasize about a morsel, but instead of the next breath… You count your breaths… knowing it could be your last… You remember the dimness of your sister’s eyes as she laid there dying… The dullness of you baby sitter’s bright blue eyes as her head was discarded from her lifeless body… You remember that she died… because she said she loved you… and she gave you a hug… you can still remember the smell of her perfume… clinging to her… not wanting to ever let go… but you did… and now… she is gone… gone…      

….gone….

A overwhelming anger fills you… you begin to lash out… hating others because they weren’t there… they didn’t save you… and they should have… You are tired all the time… your body aches… and your heart is past hurting… you feel no pain… you are numb… you are me…

You move away… from one place to another, nothing really changes. You understand now that there is no such thing as love… what is love? Where is love? You push away from others… hurting them, trying to make them understand that you had hurt so badly once in your life… Oh, how desperately do you want them to see that you were in pain! However, you can’t bring yourself to admit… that you were in pain… You must stay strong… You must show them that you cannot be hurt anymore… You must fight back before they even began to fight…

Well, here you are… in the arms of some dumb lady… she holds you and rocks you… telling you how she loves you… you stare at the ceiling fan… “No one can love me, you dumb lady… I am worthless… Ask my mom… my dad… I am not good! I am ruined… I am a failure… It is my fault everything happened… If only I had not done…” you think to yourself… you try to show dumb lady how you hate her and everyone else… You don’t want her to love you because it is impossible… No one can love you…

No one…

The stupid woman continues to hold you… after years… the wall in your heart begins to slip… The terror! No, your only thing to keep from hurting is leaving… You try hard to get it back… for a while. Then you realize that it is safe here… maybe… just maybe…

 

Your tears! Your first tears are rolling down your cheeks… pain… you have finally opened up to feel… to explore your emotions. Your throat burns from holding them in for so long… this is a new feeling… The feeling of security… maybe this dumb lady isn’t so dumb… maybe…

You start to feel, and even open yourself wider to explore this feeling… to live… this is to live… Your anger starts to leave… and you hold on to it for just a little longer… after all, it was your friend for so many years… Anger kept you alive…

You let go of so many negative emotions… now… you must fight each and every day to keep them away… It is hard… so very hard… but you grit your teeth and try to keep the anger from hurting… you realize that others don’t seem to understand… your pain…it makes you angry… they try to do mean things…because they don’t get it…because they are not you… and You…

Are not me…

 

~Marie J.~

Thanksgiving!!!

Ok... Well I meant to post something the other day, and I completely forgot what I wanted to tell you about... so I will talk about something else... Yesterday, was Thanksgiving... and our house was FULL! We counted about 60 people... (give or take) Ten of those people were Marines! We enjoyed them immensley, in fact... mom and dad said that they preferred them over the Air Force and are making plans to take in Marines next year. I sure hope they do! I enjoyed talking to them. We also had a few adoptive families and friends. None of the special needs kids had issues... not a lot of disobedience, or fits... not that anyone here would have really cared! I made 19 pies on Wed. It took alot of work! The pies I made were- pecan, cherry, chess, pecanless pecan, apple, coconut,and a pumpkin-pecan hybrid custard-pie thingmajingy. I don't know what you would call it for sure. Anyhow... it was fun.. and I wish that day didn't end... I love it when friends and family are here... and when we open our doors to accept those who are so so far away from their friends and family. I hope they felt welcome as we all tried hard to make them welcome... Thank you, Marines for allowing us to welcome you all into our house! We pray you enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed having you!! Thanks! Marie J.

With This Pencil : More fall art.

With This Pencil : More fall art.

This is the site my mom had started for some of my poems and my art... let me know what you think about my latest drawings!

Thanks,
Marie J.

I Forget You...

I Forget Forgive You

I try to stuff my tears and pain...

But is is driving me insane.

I try to forget you...

and everything you used to do...

the pain and terror you put me through.

I am so ashamed...

was it something I did?

Somehow, I always felt blamed.

I was beaten when I would cry...

You never understood...

You didn't even try.

I try to forget the way you made me hate...

I began to see life, not as a gift;

but a fate.

You stoled all the love and trust...

I ever had, threw it on the ground

and left it crushed.

I have a broken heart...

I need a brand start.

But it seems so far apart..

Like it would be easy to depart.

I try to forget that you didn't want me...

I am different! If only you could see...

I am not bad, just a little down...

A little sad and a little mad.

I try to forget to forgive...

But I need to change... to relive.

I need to do this the right way...

to use the hardest words to say...

I forgive you...

~Marie J.~

Beautiful...

Dear Daughter,

You look into the mirror…

You don’t know that you are beautiful…

Your eyes so brown…

Your hair so rich and shiny.

Your skin glows…

Your lashes shade your eyes so perfectly…

Your freckles pepper your nose lightly…

You are slim… lean…

You close your eyes and cry…

You call yourself fat…

Short… ugly… dark…

You don’t know you are beautiful…

You stand tall; your eyes are alert…

How can you not see you are beautiful?

Your smile is your best feature…

Your dimples compliment your smile…

You turn heads…

People try to get a second glance…

Your eyes shine…

When you talk, your voice carries into the wind…

You don’t see that you are beautiful….

You walk with a purpose…

You take long strides…

Graceful like a deer…

Strong like a mustang…

You hold your head up…

You smile at the poor and depressed…

It warms their heart…

Your laughter is sweet… like music…

People see your beauty…

How can you cry and call yourself horrid?

How can you not see that you are beautiful?

People say how beautiful you are…

You smile and say “Thanks”

Then turn and ask yourself… “I wish… why can’t I be beautiful?”

If you saw yourself through another’s eyes…

Maybe you’d see…

You don’t know you are beautiful…

You make hearts beat faster…

You make the world go dizzy…

Can you not see that?

I made you beautiful…

I created you this way…

My daughter, why do you sob so?

You are beautiful…

Steps lightly… dance on your toes…

See that you are beautiful…

Twirl around and let your hair show its beauty…

As it flows and settles around your shoulders…

You are beautiful… my daughter… my daughter…

You are… beautiful.

~~~Love, Your Father: God~~~

The Little Girl...

Her eyes are shaded with pain…

She hopes that someday her fears will be slain.

A crash, a slap, a kick, a shove…

Is there really a God up above?

She holds back tears…

Death is what she fears.

She wants to cry out…

To scream, cry, or shout.

Her parents think of nothing but hate…

She is curious as to know what will be her fate.

Nobody believes her when she speaks…

They look at her as if she is a freak.

She wants a hug, a kiss, or even a smile…

She wants to be away from this trial.

Her small body winces…

Her mother twists her skin in pinches.

Her mother yells, “You ruined my life!”

Her father shouts, “You caused all of this strife!”

Her little nose begins to bleed…

Nobody is fulfilling her needs.

Her stomach aches in hunger…

She wonders how much longer.

She has a deep gash…

Her father made it with a forceful slash.

She dare not make a sound…

All she can do is frown.

Her small body hurts…

She is treated like dirt.

She stays awake at night…

She never lets danger out of her sight.

She is forced to be strong…

Her tired heart sings a mournful song.

She has never felt a young child’s glee…

Anger, hate, and abuse is what she is forced to see.

She was jerked from all she knew…

She is one of few…

You see this small little girl…

Her life was in a crazy whirl.

However, she is alive and well…

She is here so this story she could tell.

She hopes you will see…

That this little girl… was me.

~Marie J.~

I Climbed a Mountain...

I climbed a mountain...

You called it a mustard seed.

I loved hate...

You taught me to love.

I gave up on trust...

You taught me to get up and try again.

I never cried...

You told me it was okay to let go.

I wondered if my life would change...

You said, if I want change... I need to be change.

So here I am...

I climbed that mountain...

I reached the top.

I raise my hands in victory...

I am here... because...

Of your love for me...

~Marie J.~

This is a poem to thank the special people in my life... I thank God for the next day to breathe and help others. Mom, who worked hard to make me a better person and survived my hateful little 7 year self, to dad, who also pushed me to do even better tomorrow. To my friends who listened to me rant and rave about my parents and how I thought they weren't doing the right thing, then they would show me what I was missing. I thank the animals, who really taught me about love. I know it is odd to thank an animal... but I do... so thanks Buger Bear, Belle, Beauty, Spooky, Scraunch, and Tunia! I love you all soo much!

How it Feels to be Me...

This is how it feels to have pain...

To wonder if this is part of God's plan.

This is how life is supposed to be...

To open the eyes of those who can't see.

This is how it feels to not be believed...

To be the one not received.

This is how it feels to cry out...

To be the one left to doubt.

This is how it is to fear...

To question if God is really that near.

This is how it feels to hate...

To wonder if forgiveness is too late.

This how it feels to wonder why one is alive...

To question why one had survived.

This is how it feels when one's faith is slowly withering away...

This is how it feels to smile...

To wonder if it could stay for a while.

This is how it is to trust...

To believe in oneself is a must.

This is how it feels to finally be able to cry...

To get to a point where one doesn't have to try.

This is how it feels to finally be able to love...

To believe for the first time, that there is a God above.

This is how it feels to be alive...

To have one more day to strive.

This how it feels to breathe...

This... is how it feels to be me...

~Marie J.~

P.s.

I am glad that you took the time to read this poem. But before you go to another page I want you to know, sometimes the saying "No pain... no gain" is true... I am stronger because of pain. I can write because of pain. I know pain and I have lived with pain. What pain meant to steal away from me... I gained back and more.

I can help people that writhe in spiritual pain and hide it so no one can see that they are struggling. I have hidden and buried my pain so that everyone could think I was strong and unbreakable... but inside... I was weak and fragile. It is hard to admit that I needed help, because I always thought (and still do) I could do it on my own.

Back when I lived with my birth parents, fear and tears could get me killed. I had to act strong and not give my parents the pleasure of seeing my pain. I hated it when I winced, because I knew they wanted that. So I began to feed my pain and hatred, I hated everything and it took me years (and help... just ask my mom, she has scars to prove it!) and tons of tears to get to where I am now. But, I am still working on who I want to be...

So thank you for believing in me and all the prayers... thank you for reading and caring enough to read. Thank you for sharing.

Please feel free to share any of my poems!

A Letter to my Birth Mother

Dear Mother,

Here I am, years down the road. I still remember you, your voice, your eyes, your mannerisms. I am on the road to healing, even though it has been years since your did what you did to me. In a way, I miss you. I wish that our relationship were different; I wish that you could have been the mother that God intended you to be. I used to hate you; I still do not understand why anyone would kill and want to kill her children. You were 14 when you had my brother, a year and a month later, I came along. I understand now, that you were young and terrified. You had little to no support so what could you do? You were abused and knew of nothing else.

I have many questions I would like to ask you… maybe they will be answered or maybe they won’t. Either way, you needn’t have to worry. Let me tell you about me. I am still alive and well. I have loved and lost. I am stronger because of you. I understand pain and fear. I can help people that wonder if they are the only out there lost in their pain. Of course, there are some bad things, I cannot trust, as I should… because of you and father. I cannot cry as easily, because you taught me not to. I have learned to not rely on anybody… I have found it hard to forgive. Nevertheless, I am working on that. Sometimes I get angry or sad for no reason at all. Some days I think of you and other days I cannot seem to picture your face. I wish that you had given me up for adoption when I was born. Maybe then, it would not hurt so badly. Please do not feel like this letter is belittling you, because that is not what I want to do. I love you the way I would love a long lost friend. I cannot not say I honestly love you like my mother, because you were never a mother to me.

I will make a promise… a promise that I know I can fulfill. My children and grandchildren will know of you. I will talk of you and I will tell the truth. I will tell them that you loved me the best way an immature 15 yo mom could love. I will tell them that you made choices that affected your life, their life and mine. However, I will never forget you. Maybe someday we will meet again. Maybe someday, I can tell you face to face that I love and forgive you. I might even get the courage to hug you, something that you had never done to me. You took a piece of my heart with you. A piece that I am not sure will ever be replaced. I wish you could see me now, to see how I have grown and changed. I wish that you could be proud of who I am becoming.

I am thankful for everything you have given me. You gave me life. You could have aborted me… but you chose to have me. You gave me a chance to breathe, and a chance to grow and break the cycle of abuse. You made the biggest and best choice of my life. I cannot thank you enough...

I want to tell you before I go, mother; you are beautiful. I love you in a way no words can express. You are precious to me, like a jewel. I hope you can read this someday, I pray that your eyes are open to the pain that you caused both you and me. I pray that God will come to you and show His amazing love to you…

Amazing love… how sweet it is… to save the wretch and broken like me… how precious did it appear the hour I thought…

I was not enough….

Love,

Your Daughter

If I Could Write a Letter to Me...

If I could write a letter to me...

To help myself become who I want to be.

I would begin by saying...

Let go of pain, to keep your heart from weighing.

Allow your tears...

To chase away all of your fears.

Take that painful step to trust...

Talk so your heart won't bust.

As you grow older...

File your past into a folder.

Don't forget who you are...

Follow Christ, whether near or far.

You will fall on your face...

Just get back up and dust yourself in grace.

You will wanna cry...

But don't ever decide not to try.

You will love and hate...

But don't forget that to forgive, it is never too late.

You will flail in the sea of pain...

Don't forget, this is all part of God's plan.

If I could write a letter to me...

I would open your eyes so you could see.

You are caring and kind...

So throw those dirty thoughts out of your mind.

You are worth dying for...

So don't use that excuse anymore.

You are on the road to healing...

Open your heart to all of your feelings.

Don't allow yourself to become numb...

If you do, then you are on the road to become a bum.

Work for everything you have...

Clean your wounded heart with God's loving salve.

Don't worry that you won't fall in love...

Cause God is still grooming the one from above.

Go ahead and cry...

Please, don't be afraid to try.

If I could write a letter to me...

I know I could make you see.

Hold my hand...

Let's trudge through that hot desert sand.

Don't forget I love you...

Remember, I will always be true.

This is a letter from me...

You will be better than you ever dreamed to be.

This is what I would say...

So you could read it every day.

If I could write a letter to me...

This... is what you would see...

~Marie J.~

Listen...

I cry out...

Silence makes me doubt.

Can anyone see...

That I hate everything about me?

I won't cry...

I am not even gonna try.

Nobody wants to hear what I have to say...

I don't even want to live one more day.

I just want to curl up and die...

I am tired of asking myself, "Why me? Why?"

I want to give up and go...

I am tired of  feeling so low.

Put a bullet in my chest...

Can't even say I did my best.

Love is a foolish word...

It is the most misused word I have heard.

Why am I alive?

Why did I survive?

If this is my purpose...

Then it is worthless.

Nobody listens...

Nobody can see my eyes glisten.

I hate my life...

I hate this strife.

It's one battle after another...

Storm after storm...

I gasp for air...

Air that shouldn't be there.

God, if you can read this...

hold my hand and reassure with a kiss.

Tell me it is okay...

To struggle to breathe one more day.

Bring someone to listen...

To see my eyes glisten.

Please?

~Marie J.~

P.S: God has answered my prayer about sending someone to listen. I want to thank her for being a listening ear and willing to stand there and talk to me about her past. I cannot thank her enough.