I'll be here

Last night I ran out. I just didn't want..... anything. Didn't want to eat. So I didn't. I don't let myself skip meals often. Last night, I did. Yesterday had a few "hiccups" yet nothing to make me feel the way I felt. I told a friend in an email about it. They were so very kind:
"... write whenever you want to ... I’ll be here..." 
I really needed to hear..... just that. Just to be told: It's ok. I feel that way too sometimes. I'm not going to think less of you. I love you as you are. 
So beautiful. So necessary. All of us need people like this in our life. 
Anyway, in my Wed night group we talked a bit about the Apostle Paul. Specifically his writings on "the thorn" in his life. We never learn any other name for it. So we don't know what "it" was. 
I think it's a wonderful thing that we don't know what Paul's thorn was. 
Why? Because then we can substitute a struggle of our own in it's place. 
With this in mind, I give you a poem that I wrote. 
I'm kind of scared to share it because I wrote it about a "thorn" in my own life. 
I never name it, of course. I just hate it. Hate that I have to fight it. Hate that I loose. 
However, I keep fighting..... 
so here is the poem,
may it encourage you.....

that

I want you to feel that good

I just don’t want that to be how you get there

You are worth more than that

You

Mean something to people

You

Are important

Your story

Is too beautiful

To have even a sentence wasted on that

So please

Run

As fast & as far

Away from that as you possibly can

Please stop thinking you don’t matter

You do

Not kidding

No exaggeration

You need to have joy

Ecstasy

That is just the wrong way to get there

Ok?

So please step away from there

Move into where you are loved

You are loved

You need to be loved

You

Are beautiful

Your story

Is better than that

Your story

Is wonderful

You have amazing characters

In your story

There are amazing chapters

In your story

Don’t let them be ruined

There’s too much at stake

You are too beautiful

To be soiled

Like that

So don’t let that

Be the end

Don’t let that

Put a shadow

On you

On your story

Too many people

Are invested

In you

In your story

Walk away from that

Don’t walk away

Alone

Your too much fun

To do that

live into a better story....

b.e. noll

May His grace drip from your fingers,
B

me too

ok... first off, I wanted to post very soon after my post on suicide. I just didn't want that to be the last, most recent thing from me for a very long time. Yet, that's how it played out. Tonight, a friend posted a writing from Anne Lamott on facebook. I really liked it. 2 things hit me from it. the title: "Grace bats last"..... & "me too". So, I haven't posted a poem on here for a while. [don't know if this is a "stellar" one or not, yet here we go...]

Me too

I know

I know that you feel it too

that feeling of being

"the only one"

The only one:

who feels broken

this much

The only one

who struggles

with this

No one else

could be this weird

this broken

this twisted

"just me"

only me

you feel

like a category

of one

No one could understand

my life is a story no one would believe

you say these things

well...

guess what?

me too

I've said them

I've felt them

felt alone

even though

I wasn't

I had just pushed

the people who care

out

I couldn't help it

you weren't there "then"

so why should I believe that

you'd be here now?

You didn't know about "then"

so how could you?

Now

you know

Now

you are here

You believe me

Even though

if I named my story

it would be called:

"I don't believe it either [& I was there]"

you

are here

I'm not alone

You feel this too
&

you aren't alone in this

because

I feel this too

by b.e. noll

May His grace drip from your fingers,
B