Category: Jumbled Thoughts & Writings

03-21-2022

My family said goodbye to our dog today. His name was Jake, we got him when I was a kid. It’s poetic that I end my time with him the same way I started, with tears. When we got him I couldn’t help but cry whenever we took him home. I was sad when we got him! When we left the place we got him, I watched as he got to say goodbye to his Mom and all his other siblings that were there. As a kid it brought me to tears in the backseat, it brought a feeling of sorrow while I held him on that ride home. I remember my Mom saying, “We can take him back Hank.” That I promptly responded to with a crying, “NO!”

He was a good dog, never too jumpy or aggressive. Of course he barked at the mailman, got excited whenever anyone came over to visit, or whined when he wanted to be pet. He was a good dog, but he was ours all the more. Jake taught me a lot of things since we got him in 2008. From the memories of running muddy through the creek, to chasing golf balls when I hit them in the yard, he taught me how to have fun. Jake taught me that grieving was ok, the emotions I never showed my family I would show to him while they were away. We would lay on the floor and talk about what was going on, he knew when I was hurt or confused and would listen and comfort me in those times. But I think most importantly, Jake taught me how to love.

This idea of love has been a conflicting one for me for a while now. That topic being, how to love. It’s a confusing one for me for some reason, I’m not sure why, but I hope I can culminate my thoughts on this well enough so that it’ll make sense. I’ve thought for a while now that my ability to love was skewed or flawed in some sense of the word. Love, to me, is a nerve racking feeling. It uproots feelings and thoughts I cannot control and causes me to constantly question wether or not I’m loving my friends and family in the “right ways” — I want to love and to love well. From a relational standpoint, I’ve not had the best of luck with it as it comes to friendships and relationships. I’d live life constantly questioning wether or not I’m doing enough, feeling enough or acting certain ways. For years I’ve sought answers to some of these questions, reading in search for clarity and writing to process thoughts. I’ve been actively searching for answers when the perfect example was right in front of me, asleep, in the middle of the living room floor.

Jakes love was simple. He was affectionate, energetic at times, and sleepy at others (which was more often than not) — He had needs and wants but never at the expense of us. We were home to him, the way his ears would fold back after not seeing him for a while was evidence of that. He was joyful at the sight of us. He had fears too, he hated walking up stairs and the vacuum. But all that to say, his love was simple. The way he cared for us was strangely intentional, how he would somehow understand my feelings just by being around me was so strange. He’d come and sit his nose on my leg or at my face when I was sad, a calm gesture to show me he was there. Jake took time to understand how we were feeling before interacting, he knew us well so it never took him much time at the sight of any of us. Over the years of our relationship, he learned my heart and how to best care for me and I’ll forever love him for that.

Though he was only a dog, the ways that he loved me have become an example for how I want to love. It took a little while for Jake to learn to love us well. He had to understand us before he knew how to love us, it took a few years before it started to truly show for me. It was never too much either, he would never really bombard us with affection unless we were in a position to be receptive and requite it. I think that is the first lesson I need to learn from Jake. The first step in me being able to love well, is to first understand who I’m trying to love. Jake showed me that takes time, though he would still show momentary affection to those he just met or didn’t know as well, he would always return to us and sit by our side, or on his bed, when all was said and done. Jake knew his needs too. That’s the next lesson I can learn from him.

He knew he was not complete without us around. We had to let him outside to use the bathroom, we had to feed him, give him water, and wash him after he rolled around in the mud. It was a mutual relationship, but a relationship where he understood his personal needs. He knew we had to care for him but also that our love was voluntary. Jake understood the importance of a mutual love, that he couldn’t care for us if we didn’t first care for him. It seemed selfish at first to think he wouldn’t have loved us if we didn’t care for him first, but now it makes sense. We brought him home, showed him affection, taught him tricks, ran around the yard and so on. We showed him that we were his family, that his capacity to love had no boundaries besides the property line. So why would I try to love in any other way? How could I truly love anyone without first considering the joyful “running through the grass” moments as we get to know one another? Jake taught me that love is not gained immediately, instead, it was earned as we cared for one another.

Jakes most important lesson to me though was how to be understanding. Maybe “Intentional” is a better word. Just to say he understood my feelings better than anyone. I mentioned at the beginning how we used to lay on the floor as I talked to him, whenever I’d get emotional around him, his demeanor would change and he’d sit or lay patiently beside me as I talked or cried. He never prodded too much in these moments, knowing that I wanted to express my feelings without him interrupting first. He was gentle in these times, when I would eventually grab and hug him he would be calm and soft with his movements and when he’d try and lick my face. And in the times I wouldn’t come to him, he would come quietly and gently, getting my attention with his nose or just to sit by my side. He knew when I was happy too! The way he’d see it on my face and hear it in my voice caused his tail to wag and those ears to turn back, ready to play. Jakes emotional consciousness was everything close to perfect. He knew how to treat us in our times of need, he never acted out too much and almost always waited for my invitation to love before giving it. He knew when and how to give love and when to be receptive of it.

Jake was wise, certainly wise beyond my years. I’d like to think he knew his Creator, that he knew God. God I pray that you’ll have him in heaven with you waiting for me. The lessons he taught will forever be with me and I’ll miss him for the rest of my life. I so deeply hope I’ll have the chance to see you again in heaven. You were a good boy Jake, thank you for being the example of love I never knew I had. I’ll love you forever. This is not a goodbye, it’s see you later buddy…

Love, Hank

It’s been a few months since my last writing, there’s a few things that I want to process through in this so I’m going to split it up into three parts. 

1. Used To The Heat

2. Wanting Certainty

3. Guilt

Used To The Heat

I’ve spent just over a year in Tampa. This is my first full summer and I figured the heat would be worse than it was. I really think South Carolina was hotter but I may just be acclimated to the year-round heat here. That point felt like a good analogy to explain the first thing I want to process through, that being, I feel acclimated to the feelings I was so enthralled with before.

It’s disappointing really, I’ve written so much about this heart thumping, belly laughing, tear filled joy but have since become used to the feeling. I can’t say that heart and the subsequent community has left, it hasn’t, but I feel different at the thought of it. It’s shown to be a vacant-minded feeling and I get lost in thought pretty frequently wondering if I went wrong somewhere in the last few months, as if I’ve not taken advantage of the gift I’ve been given. I can’t complain though, what love I’ve been given by the Lord is still far beyond anything I was ever able to do on my own, though I am still trying to fill the self inflicted cracks.

I say, “Cracks” as if I wasn’t the cause of those vacancies in the first place. I was and am filled by the Spirit, though my tendencies to wander into curious and sinful situations still precedes my reputation. I damage myself though I’ve been given all I could ever hope for, I’ll own that, I understand that’s a big proponent to why I may feel acclimated and frustrated at the thought of it. What doesn’t make sense is my emotional competency? I’ve spent a pretty big chunk of time working towards understanding my feelings, writing through, and processing why I feel certain ways. That’s easily the second most important thing behind Christ in my life, though those two may share some intricacies in my heart I have yet to understand. 

I feel acclimated to Love, that’s what I’m trying to say. I know I’m acclimated to a certain point, though the causation is what confuses me, and I’m wondering wether or not I’m pouring out too much or am just used to it. I’d like to think that Love isn’t like drugs and that I don’t just get acclimated the more I have it, but when I consider the chemical balance in my head, I can’t look past that. Am I to base my life solely off feelings? I’m not sure I like that idea. I’m still loving on my friends and don’t think I’ve changed how I do that, my desire to love consistently has slowly fallen off and it’s all from a lack of feelings I’ve felt towards love in my life. The uncertainty has made itself known, and though I’m not afraid of that, it raises a lot of confusing thoughts and brings me to the next part.

Wanting Certainty

It’s no doubt that Christ has my heart, I’ve given it fully to him and I believe that Jesus gave his life on the cross for my sins and he has forgiven me of all I’ve ever done, do or will do. That needs to be pointed out before I move further on this section as to not raise questions on my beliefs because I’ll make known a series of doubts I have, not in him but my own life, as to not dishonor the name of Christ in the presence of my inadequacies. 

Sheldon Vanauken in A Severe Mercy writes about his commitment to Christ noting that he has two very distinct choices, those being to either take the leap towards Christ or away. He says on believing in Christ, “If I were to stake my whole life on the risen Christ, I wanted proof – I wanted certainty. I wanted to see him eat a bit of fish. I wanted letters of fire across the sky. I got none of these.” (Vanauken) — I read this back in college and when I first heard it out loud made so much sense in my heart as I held a lot of curiosity towards Christ and who he’d made me to be. The book as a whole took me a few years to read fully and I didn’t finish it until earlier this year when my feelings towards certainty became clearer. 

The certainty became clearer when the belly laughing, tear filled joy came into my life, that was certainty to me. Certainty was all it took for me to become vulnerable and really begin to love those around me in a way I’d never experienced before. However, I still feel acclimated to the feelings I felt and still feel. I don’t know why and once again I’m asking for certainty in that aspect. I want certainty that these feelings won’t be lost and the stagnancy won’t last. I understand there are vacant times of life, along with seasons in which certain feelings come and go, but this time in my life doesn’t seem like it should be one of those because I’ve started dating someone. 

Maybe it’s against my better judgment, that is, to start dating someone in such a vacant time of my life. She asked me out and we hit it off, though the writhing uncertainty has led me to continue a relationship I’m unsure of. The only reason I’ve let it go on is because I believe it’s my fault I don’t have particularly strong feelings towards her. Truthfully, I haven’t felt strong feelings for anyone and I’m afraid to tell her that because I already broke things off with her once when we first started going out a few months ago. I did it because I wasn’t sure of what I felt towards her initially but blamed it on my uncertainty and decided to continue going out to see if my feelings changed, they have slightly, but I think it may just be emotional attachment. Physical attachment too, chasing a dopamine fix because, again, I want to fill the cracks I’ve caused. But then I find myself in a dangerous cycle of trying to fill self inflicted emptiness while causing more damage in the process. I’m afraid to break things off again because I don’t want to hurt her. She likes me and I don’t know why. I don’t think I fully trust her, she spends time with me and cares about me and says all these things she likes about me but I don’t trust her. I can’t trust her because all the things she does and says I don’t believe about myself. I’ve never believed such things about myself and have left it up to Christ to fulfill me in those empty spaces.

I’m unworthy to be loved by Christ and unworthy of his gift, I’ve been given it nonetheless and would be foolish to not take it. He’s forgiven me repeatedly and I’m unafraid to come to him when I know I need forgiveness, God in the flesh whose never ending love abounds in ways I still know very little about. I’m unworthy in every aspect. That being said I still come to him because he knows my heart and he’ll love me no matter what. That’s something I can’t guarantee with this girl. I can’t guarantee that she’ll love me no matter what, I can’t guarantee that she’ll forgive me, I can’t guarantee she can fill those empty spaces. It’s a subconscious feeling that I’ve felt for a while, that I’d find someone to love and that they would fill the cracks I couldn’t fill on my own, I now realize that’s a lie. She doesn’t deserve to be treated as such and I feel guilty for even pointing it out.

Guilt

It’s been almost every time I’ve been around her that I’ve prayed, “God just fill me with love here, please God, please give me something.” I want nothing more than to be filled with a head over heels kinda feeling for her but months have gone by and all I get is a cold breeze through the cracks I’ve created. She’s done nothing to cause any of these feelings, though she has made them evident. I feel guilty and frustrated because I don’t feel the same way. I want to! But I don’t and want so badly to understand why. This one point is the only problem I have with Christ. 

The only problem I have with God is how he can let a believer have romantic feelings for another and those feelings not be requited. Of all the “love” talk that goes on throughout the Bible, you’d think that one aspect would remain untainted, especially when it comes to Christ followers. I do believe a big chunk of my unrequited feelings are my fault. I spent so much time and energy growing up seeking the approval of girls and wasted much of my emotional capacity on relationships that seldom lasted through the morning hours. And it’s that sinful nature I think has caused much of why I feel this way. Who knew that the guilt would carry this far into my life and cause such problems down the line. I was just trying to have fun as a kid and now I find myself between a rock and a hard place, and maybe some therapy. 

I feel guilty. For a lot of things, I do. But this ain’t some trauma dumping guilt trip. Everyone has feelings like this and it doesn’t bother me all too much talking about it. But much like the walls I’ve been trying to tear down, my guilt renders certain feelings unreceptive as I try to block them out in fear of growing these cracks and making known the thought that I may be too emotionally damaged to live life with a loving relationship. I’m used to a lot of these feelings, I’ve become used to the presence of love in my life, I’m certain of love and the life that Christ has given me as I believe in him, I’m certain that I’m forgiven of all I’ve ever done, do or will do. And I’m guilty in my own sin and I’m no stranger to that guilt. 

Christs love is perfect and is capable of bringing us from death to life. But when it comes down to it, I am not perfect, and Christ’s love does not make me perfect. She is not perfect and Christ’s love does not make her perfect, she cannot fill the cracks I’ve brought on myself and I can’t cover them up forever. We, as humans, are not perfect and will never be and I don’t trust I’ll be able to reciprocate feelings to someone that loves me. It’s not that I don’t trust them or doubt how they feel, I don’t trust myself. And that’s where the guilt stems from. 

My life has never been as good as it is now. I just took a dream job, have the best friends I could ever hope for, and the love of Christ still flourishes through my life. I’m still happy, I still love it in Tampa, I love God even though I’m a sinner, and am daily given more than I deserve. It doesn’t matter how acclimated I may be, wether or not I get letters of fire across the sky, and if my guilt precedes certain decisions, I’m going to continue to try and love like it’s my last day. I’ll continue to pour slowly to those who are receptive, I’ll continue to learn love, and I’ll continue to lean into a life I still don’t understand. 

What words could evoke such feelings as love, it seems as if it’s the other way around. What love could evoke such feelings as words, as words can’t describe a feeling I have yet to understand, only the absence thereof.

04/26/22

This past weekend I got the pleasure of standing as a groomsman at one of my best friends wedding. It was the first wedding I’ve been in and the groom, Dylan, has been a friend of mine since my Sophomore year of college. He’s a firefighter with a soft heart wrapped in kindness. I could use a lot of words to describe the man he is but the word “compassionate” is the one I feel describes him the best. I know this because he became my friend at a time in my life that was certainly not a time to be desired. I was an unpleasant person with the attitude to back it up, but he still chose to be a part of my life anyway. I admire him because he took the time and effort to be present in our friendship, though it has been more of a brotherhood than anything, while we shared life experiences both through joyful and not so joyful times together. I’m sharing this because I was honored to stand up there with him as he professed his love and committed to life with his wife Karianna. Watching on as tears fell from his face as she walked the aisle, I heard the officiator speak briefly on the first accounts of poetry in the Bible, when Adam saw Eve for the first time, “bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh,” he said. And for the last few days I’ve not been able to stop thinking of that.

Words are tough, at least to explain, as I’m using words right now to try and explain the sense of words, a paradox of some sorts that I’ll hopefully be able to use and communicate my feelings with. I’ve written a lot about my feelings and emotions and whatnot, many times finding myself stuck in a corner not knowing how to convey certain emotions, events or situations; ending up frustrated because, it seems, words are the only things I have that could ever help me process and communicate the intricacies of all the questions I have about things like love, fear, relationships, personalities and so on.

Even now, I’m struggling to use words to begin my thoughts on this topic, I have music playing in the background and can hear words paired with harmony to tell stories! It’s complex feelings played joyfully in Fool in the Rain by Led Zeppelin, speaking of worries over his love. Or the comedy of Tyler Childers’ song Purgatory or the distorted and sensual rhythm of Juno by Choker as the lyrics describe a selfish relationship that he can’t seem to come to terms with. We hear emotional freedom in Paramores song, Last Hope as Haley Williams sings in the third verse saying

And the salt in my wounds
Isn’t burning any more than it used to

It’s not that I don’t feel the pain
It’s just I’m not afraid of hurting anymore

What better way to convey ones unexplainable feelings and experiences than through song? I’m no songwriter and wouldn’t even consider myself a writer, but what a gift it is to have something so precious as music. At this point I feel like I’m rambling, and normally only feel like that when I’m having trouble with my thoughts, though I think I may be able to narrow it down to this.

As wonderful as the gift of words and poetry is, there’s still something lacking there as far as life is concerned. By that I mean I could sit and write all day long about my hopes, dreams and desires to try and sound inspirational or desirable but I’d be nothing but a liar if that was my goal. Meaning I wouldn’t be communicating my true feelings but instead be trying impress. It’s the same way in terms of people showing love to one another. I could show affection or attention to others but that in itself is not love. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to get at? I’m still trying to understand love and am hoping that some form of words could help me sorta grasp that, oh boy.

What words could evoke such feelings as love? It seems as if it’s the other way around, love is the thing that evokes words. The language of such is actually funny, described as falling, being struck or smitten, you know the kind of things I’m talking about. All of which, out of context of love, would normally be used in conjunction with pain. So why on earth are words like that used to describe love? I don’t think I can truly say I’ve fallen in love with someone before, there have been plenty of times where I’ve caught feelings for someone and 9 times out of 10 it happened without me even trying. Surely I can say I’ve “fallen” for someone, against my will it has happened a few times. It came with a desire to be wanted by them, to know them and to spend my time with them. My falling inspired daydreams of lying on the couch to watch movies on a week- night, dancing in the kitchen and a weekend trip to visit home with them. Again, all of which happened against my will.

I feel as if I’m getting caught up in trying to understand a feeling that went and hit me upside the head with more emotional concussions than I’d like to admit. Nevertheless, I’m grateful for that. And yes I know I’ve said it before but the desire to love and be loved, know and to be known precedes everything in my life. It conjures curiosity and impatience when I sit and think whilst jumbled words are all I have to ever convey those feelings. Damn me if I ever claim to understand love in all its respects, because then too will I be a liar.

Words build up and tear down, words convey emotion and tell stories, but words cannot make someone love. Words can barely describe love, let alone create it, only life can do that. Compassion and care and time and all those little things in between that require effort cause these little unexplainable feelings that tend to grow us together through shared experiences. But it’s words that have the power to share those feelings, to write songs and stories about this wondrous, gravitating, heart-punching feeling that nobody can truly explain.

What gift of love may be

What words can’t describe

Such feeling as this

My love my God

We deserve none of it

But are struck nonetheless

05/03/22

There’s some ongoing things that I’ve not been able to stop thinking about over the last few days. A majority of which could be accompanied by silly stories and drunken ramblings but one in particular has come up more than the others. Recently, a friend asked what it would be like if I was stuck on a road-trip with my kid self. It’s a funny thought, the idea that I’d be in the drivers seat with a younger version of myself riding along. I think I’d be, or “he” would be, sitting there with some headphones in trying to mind his business as the time went on, not worrying about what my future may hold. I can’t lie though, I’m more concerned on wether or not I’ve become who my childhood self wanted me to be, or at least hoped.

I imagine I’d be annoyed by my kid self, with questions probably revolving around what kind of Nerf guns there were or if scientists had made a real life lightsaber yet (I’m still hoping for that one) but what would I tell him? Who’s to say I wouldn’t spend hours telling stories about what happens in the years to come, or maybe wait for those prying questions that a middle school Hank would ask once the awkwardness cleared the air. What I’d hope he’d ask would be something about our friends, who’s stays and who doesn’t. Who are they and what are they like? It’d take hours just to tell some of the stories but the present situation would come to the fact that I love them in a way that I doubt my kid self would really understand.

But really, what of love might a middle school Hank know besides a side-hug in the parent pick-up line after school? I doubt very much of what could be told without some things getting lost in translation. He might ask about the crush he had at the time and if it worked out, only for me to maybe laugh and tell him to focus on some different things moving forward, but of course I wouldn’t have listened.

I am drastically different now than I was then, as anyone would be, and we’ve learned a lot as the few years have chugged on. So I wonder if I would even feel safe with myself knowing this is how we’d end up. My thoughts would be simple, questions brief, and desires ever so awkwardly bland. I’d laugh at my kid self but probably tear up in the fact I’d understand who he became without him knowing. I’d want to explain what is to come but there’s no way I could convey my heart with so much emotional capacity still lacking in who he is.

Was it lacking though? Have I grown the capacity to love in different ways or have I just accepted that of which who I am and was made to be? There must be so much that was misconstrued over the years that would make me question wether I’d be comfortable with my kid self. I do believe that if I was with my childhood self, that he would feel safe with me. I would be patient with him and listen and try to love him in a way that he’d understand. Because against the odds, I think I became the person kid Hank wanted. I became not the person we wanted to be but the person we wanted in our life. We wanted someone who was there, who was around no matter what, someone who’d sit through the laughter and the tears, someone who called us to hang out, someone who’s idea of quality time was just sitting around even if it was in silence. I don’t think I’ve become who kid me wanted to be, but instead who he wanted in his life.

I realize as I’m writing that I’m trying to say things that would impress people if they were to read. It’s irritating to say that I can’t exactly explain my thoughts and feelings on what it would be like to meet myself. Truth is, I would be terrified, I’d probably count the minutes as the time rolled on down the road, fearing how the miles slipped away with nothing to say, wondering how I could’ve used our time better. I’d be afraid to go into detail on what our life was really like, the shortsighted pains that I let drag on too long or fears I ran away from, but what kid Hank in the passenger seat might find as joy in the fact that silence was enough. At least to know he had someone willing to take the time to try and explain things he didn’t understand quite yet. Only to tell him all the waiting has been worth it and that there’s no need to worry what his future holds, because in the present, everything ends up ok. And all the fears you thought you had seemingly slipped away as love became subtly evident throughout your life. So as the miles dwindle down to wherever our road-trip leads us, the time spent together would be enough to see that we, so far, have become who we always wanted, but never expected to be.

05-19-2022

I’m sitting in the Louisville airport, flight back to Tampa has been delayed a few times now, so I’ve got some time to sit and process a few feelings I’ve had over the last week or so. You’ve gotten the whole spiel on my life change since moving to Tampa, the gift of a belly laughing, tear-filled, joy-giving love that I have no right to know, though has continued to amaze me since. I do need to be up front though, since deciding to return to a church and the ensuing community, I’ve been hesitant to give my whole heart to the Lord. It’s not like I don’t understand the gift that’s been given, I do, but there’s a little piece of me remaining that’s afraid to give my whole heart back. Does that make sense?

Life has never been so good as it is now. When covid hit, my heart fell apart rather quickly. Not as if there was much to begin with, I was a not-so-good person whose arrogance, anger, and entitlement got in the way of a lot of things, my relationships being at the forefront of that. Living alone for that time forced me to face feelings towards my mental health and addictions that had been long overlooked. The first few months spent drinking myself to sleep and arguing with a God I doubted, turned to less drinking and the written processing of a life I felt I didn’t understand. A hundred and sixty pages later, things made more sense, but the uncertainty and frustration towards God was still there. The move to North Carolina caused me to face my mental health head on. It certainly didn’t fix it, but forced me to see I couldn’t just run from those feelings. Anxiety and Depression have been a prominent point in my life since high school and living in North Carolina was the first step in me really learning to openly process that.

When the move to Tampa came the uncertainty was still there, though less evident, it became known shortly after the move and my mental health hit harder than it had in years. And again, the notion that I could just run away from my fear was uprooted, though now, I had no place to run. It took a few weeks, but my heart was struck in a way I can’t explain here. A slow, music blasting, windows down drive was the substance of a heart change only God could’ve provided. I fell in love with friends that seemed to come out of nowhere and with a church that displayed the love of Christ in a way that made it so clear.

It started in October, my heart change hit hard and fast, a life giving love came into my heart with little to no effort on my end. After years of anger and frustration the love seemed to just fall in my lap and I took every bit I could get. It made no sense, my feelings, I became a different person. I felt like a new Hank and every bit of my heart knew that something had changed. Ever since then, I’ve soaked up the joy and reveled in the fact I’m the recipient of a love whose origin can’t be described. I’m in love with my friends who feel like family, I’m in love with a place that feels like home, and in love with a God who’s gifted me a life I don’t deserve. But I need to tell you, I am still nervous.

I haven’t given God my whole heart. I feel it to be caused by a lot of uncertainty that’s remained from my last few years in college and the subsequent years of covid but I’ve been hesitant to give God my whole heart again. My life with Christ began freshman year of high school, I made a lot of mistakes along the way and searched for life in too many places to count, but at no point did I lose my belief in him. For years I knew he was real, I never doubted that, but wanted so badly to know wether or not there was more out there for me, what could I do for myself to feel better, to feel more, to be happier. Impatience at its finest, right? Those years turned sour when I got to college, leading Young Life and feeling mistreated by a ministry I’d loved and have since forgiven. During those years I did all I could, believing I deserved nothing from God and could do all the hard work myself, wether that be a job, school, ministry, and even love. I tried, I really did and it left me emptier than before. The one I wanted most, I neglected to turn to in those years. I can’t explain why, maybe it was a feeling of guilt, superiority or flat out foolishness, I doubt I’ll ever know.

Though, over the last week or so, I think that last little bit of my heart has started to change. The one little piece I’ve not been ready to give up yet has begun to wiggle away from its restraints, and in the recent days, came loose. I don’t feel all too different, a few heart flutters here and there when I think about it, but I’m ready to give my whole heart back, it’s not mine to keep. I’m not wise and don’t intend to become so, all I know is I’ve not been able to fill myself on my own, and the few times I’ve experienced full life, it’s come at the hands of Christ. I’ve been gifted a life I don’t deserve, everything of which I hope I can give away, and my heart wants nothing more than to be fully surrendered. I’m giving God my full heart. You can call it a public profession, a confession, a cry of praise, whatever you want. I just wanted to tell you, I’ve given Christ my whole heart.

Ridden with mistakes

Guilty in sin

A heart made full

Born again