You Don't Know the Cost of my Praise...

Valleys lined with biting tongues and backstabbers. Not a trusting soul to be found… with only a glimpse of the mountain top that my soul longs for.

Those mountain tops. They are unlike anything I have ever seen. The grass that smells like freedom and my favorite flowers grown just for me.

You. You are always there waiting for me with a picnic basket full of soul food that would make you want to slap your mama. (That’s our little joke)

That’s when it happens. You grab my hand and sit me down next to you. You reach out and brush my hair and tell me things that I could never tell another soul. We slow dance to the sound of the crickets and the wind and for one moment I know that life is good again….

Then you look at me with eyes that show a hint of sadness but for some reason I trust them…and you tell me that we have to leave…

I don’t mind. I would go anywhere with you…and at that very moment I realize that you’re walking toward the valley. I stop in my tracks with eyes similar to a deer caught in headlights. I know why that look in your eyes is so familiar now. We’ve been here before. Too many times before.

Valleys lined with biting tongues and backstabbers. Not a trusting soul to be found…except for You. Please don’t let go of my hand. I know I would die without you. He gave me one last kiss that told me he would never forsake me.

We made our way down into the valley…but not without one last glimpse at the mountain top. Now I know why they say one day in your presence is better than ten thousand elsewhere.

Mirrors.

Mirrors used to be my enemy. I would steal glances into them hoping I would find something beautiful. Something that would take a single breath away. What I found was repulsive and I would look away within a split second. Something is different. Something is not right. I see these pictures from when I was young and I can do nothing but weep because I am not that little girl anymore. Where did I go? If I owned my own house those mirrors would have be gone.

Broken. Smashed. Cracked.

Intimacy. Intimacy. Intimacy.

6 years later I encountered that same mirror and out of pure habit I took one quick glance. With the same habit I almost looked away, but something caught my eye. Something beautiful. Someone beautiful. I fell to my knees and wept. Not because of something repulsive, but because for the first time I saw the glorious creation that I was created into. I saw the glorious creator that created me.

Mirrors used to be my enemy…until today.

Grace Filled Shoes

When dark disguises itself as light it becomes suffocating.

I hate sitting in a room of good intentions and pretend to have a good time.

Traci, you have the Truth inside you. Speak it.

It’s not that easy when their eyes call me a fool every time they browse my face.

Think of the foulest thing that you could call someone and remember I heard worst.

Your footsteps are way too large for me to fit in. I fall in the craters of where you once walked every time I even try.

My love, I never asked you to walk in my footsteps. I simply want you to sing for me like you’ve wanted to for all these years. THAT is the desire I put in you and THAT is all that I want from you.

Sing…… The only thing that sets me free and the only thing I fear the most. That’s what you want? I rather try to walk in your shoes again.

My child that I am so fond of, walking in my shoes is a tragic mistake. But take heart, my grace allows my feet to fit in YOUR shoes.