When the accusations fly, a flaming arrow meant for the heart,
when it pierces you
and breaks you
and rips what you have built to shreds,
when the voice of the Accuser magnifies
each burning word,
and fire glows and grows with such
that you wonder if you will ever, ever
escape its fiery tentacles.
Over and over
and over again,
when you think you've found peace,
perhaps you've sought forgiveness,
or perhaps none was required,
and you have pledged to drown out,
to squash, to quell,
that red hot furnace,
and then before you turn around,
you see a smolder
and before you know it,
the voice has taken over the new life
that had broken through the ashes.
You are not enough.
You are not giving enough.
You will never be enough.
Why can't you...?
You should have...
The smoke starts to obscure the truth even more
as I acquiesce to these accusations,
as I begin to consider,
to pick apart,
and then, before I know it,
life has been choked out,
and my spirit is dying...
My hope is that He will rescue me
from this trap,
that He will grab my hand
and that we will race toward
freedom and love,
far away from this accuser.
That the magnified voice would be
His and His alone.
I am running...
Linking with Emily for Imperfect Prose.