My tears are beautiful. I sit here with tears and my nose running on my t-shirt. The moisture has made my chest feel cold. But not a dry cold that lacks emotion. The cold that wakes you up and stings your mind into saying, “No more.” I want a change in my life. My tears are beautiful because this time as I cry and allow god to console me and hug me with his spirit, I sense an amazing growth. Change has already begun. My tears are beautiful because standing in the mirror witnessing my wet face swollen from tears, quenched eyes and tissue crumbs from the constant nose blowing that started from wiping with the t-shirt when the tissue was too far to grab….I see a different woman. I am not a victim but survivor of myself.
For so long I’ve hidden behind abuse just because I saw no blood or just because I still had the ability to remember a shared smile. Or fooled myself to believe a miracle would change his heart and allow him to love me the god designed fashion, despite the lack of spirit or umph to do just surface level GOOD. Ignoring the jokes, cut downs, disgusted faces to my figure or hair, and assumed he’s just a jokster. Figured that as we lay this was his form of love. I forgot my dreams and picked up second options. Settled for good enough instead of the best.
The enemy has tricked me into believing that I’ve done wrong… I can do just a bit more to change someone else. Lied and told me I was a fool for the second time around. The enemy led me into a darkness I never wanted to entertain yet again. I allowed the enemy to make me feel less than when I knew I was more than. Allowed him to break me down from the inside with snide remarks, fake truths, and was fed the just enough to get by crumbs.
I was Cinderella in the attic for far too long…when I should have stepped out and recognized my place from day one. I take no orders from below… I love and serve God from above. He is my prince charming and has exemplified every form of love imaginable to man. So my tears are beautiful because I see the queen behind the ashy tear stains. Behind the red eyes that seem to glow with hope for the future. No … better yet…faith for the future. I once hoped but doubted. I now have faith and know for sure.
My tears are beautiful because as they fall they are washing the decorative lies from my sight. What once was flat and dull I now see in 3D. What once was okay I see as now unacceptable and crude. My tears are beautiful because I see me: Ms. Written. Not miswritten because I’m no mistake. Ms. Written because I’m claiming my place on the list. I’m number one on the list to the ball.
Written is past tense…I’m Ms. Written because before time I was chosen…and it is my destiny to walk in grace and royalty. Any questions?