Clatter

I didn’t notice the change

At first

My once soft prayers

Like new-fallen snow

Glistening in the early light

Were fading.

The blanket inside of me

A sleep of peace that was beyond

Became shredded .

Twisted around my neck as I tried to sleep

I fought against the 

Night robber, stress.

While the howls screamed out to me

And out from me

“You will never get it done.”

“You will die alone.”

“You’re not a real Christian, ha, see!  

You have no faith.”

And even His word says that

He gives sleep to those he loves.

And the accuser took it as proof

That God had forgotten me.

And used it to make every argument

Against my security.

Those nights I struggled

To sleep in my helmet of truth

And not let go.

Over time, the nightly barrage

Turned from fight to whispered whinings

That were so familiar 

They rang a truth in my heart.

Just not the part I wanted 

To hear from.

“What about you?”

“Aren’t you going to do something? Say something?!”

“Defend yourself.”

And even though I knew in my heart 

That Jesus was my defender

His distance seemed to say

Take care of it yourself.

So I did.  I bought makeup

And clothes to fit in.

I bought things to be successful with.

To be “helpful”.

My soul began to clatter a bit 

With the extra strain of weight.

All the shiny new objects,

How wonderful.

Except now I have to carry them.

Three backpacks full.

And all the outfits don’t look as cute 

Because people want to know why I have so many bags.

To be useful, I think.

And yet…. Somehow nothing quite works out anymore.

Make room.

He said, make room.

I keep trying to guess what that means. 

Room in my house?

Room in my car?

Room in my finances?

Room in my worship?

Room for someone else to have a place to help because I have taken all the jobs and I’m clattering around with unholy noise?

Yes, all of the above.

Poem by Emily Lewis – Copyright 2019