It has not been only seven years—it’s been almost ten.
My entire youth.
I was so afraid you could almost have baptized me with a fourth name.
Mayra Yanina—
Sheltered From The Storm—
Afraid.So many scars, such anger…
And I’ve tried silence, lately.
Hurting is never enough, you know? No, hearts can stop beating and one can go up to heaven, at the feet of the very throne that breathed us all into being and the story could end there—or hearts could regain their beating, only breathing back… a new self.
He reached out His hands and true Life began there.
It was so hard, understanding… until I opened my hands and surrendered every drop of fear, hope, and life. [I found that—given I was holding these—I couldn’t quite take His]
I’m not living my own dreams now, I saw every single one of those break… turn to dust. But I’d be lying if I left things there, because from every speck of dust, upon every ruin, He gave something back:
His own Life.
I thought my heart wouldn’t bend as far as He was intending, it got way too hard until I got to sit at His table, eating from His portion forever.
And yes, I have seen, yet again, His hands covering mine; forever sheltering me come sun, rain, wind, or fire.
I wanted to run away so many times, push Him away as many times as He came after me to bring me home, now I don’t run.
I don’t scream, either. Nothing hurts anymore—not as it used to.
At the beginning, I thought someone so pure, so clean, so good, should never have looked my way. Just like the rest of the world. Never. I didn’t want to ruin Him like I supposed I could have. I was so, so broken—worthless, in my sight. But He treasured every tear and saw every sleepless night where I wondered if life was even worth it.
I guess that’s life for someone grown fatherless. Although He made sure I wasn’t.
He walked every path I treaded.
He carried me even when I… I was desperate to run away—just to see it all end.
He held me long enough for me to stop fighting.
He brought me with Him, He never let go.Now… I find it a gift—the idea of forgetting about everything my past held, whether I ever found it good or bad because He’s here, present tense.
Life became Him.
For a while I feared the day He found out everything I truly was—I feared He’d leave then. But He did. See me as I truly was, I mean.
Not even then did He leave.
I gave everything He asked, tried to protect what I figured was mine—He loved me still, and I let go of everything else even more.One day I saw the sun rise, and it was as if I had never seen the light, felt the breeze against my skin—
I’m not angry anymore, and I don’t want to see the world burn nor raise my sword against the lost souls whose hands tore my world—He became my world.
I have never flown too close to the sun, wings are something I have never gotten to know. I couldn’t save myself, and my old litany ‘I am not, I cannot, I have not,’ could never evolve by itself. But a new one did make itself at home:
He is.
He can.
He has.And life held in His hands is the most precious thing I have ever known.
Boldly, I’ll follow every path He’s treaded now.
– SFTS
This is SFTS
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