I wrote this July 2010. I was smack in the middle of my journey to being restored on the inside toward intimacy. the “it” is intimacy. i was made to be open and intimate and passionate – and this is my reflection in a moment of time on that part of my journey – so, sorry if it ends abruptly. i have come so far since then, i’ll share that at some point, but today i wanted to say this.
it was broken. when i was 5 and totally open and naive to the wickedness of the world and the dark things that dwelled in it, i was taken by the hand and led into the dark den of unthinkable filth where the stench of dead things filled the air. and now i’m 35 and i’m still trying to wiggle myself free from the vines that choke me and threaten to consume my chest. my garden is in shambles. it used to be beautiful.. with monuments and statues of magnificent figures of what i would be one day. immortally resplendent monuments to the glory i was created with. the glory of being a woman.
it began when i was five and it didn’t end until i was bound and gaged by the Lord and placed in marriage. i kicked and screamed against the intruder the Lord had placed at my gates. no one was ever allowed inside again. not anyone. not for any reason. i was destroyed and ashamed of the state of turmoil and destruction that was my garden. i hadn’t kept it clean and swept. i had let it be destroyed. i had allowed the vandals to come in with their machetes and fire and have their way. i had given them the keys and they kicked in the door anyway. and now i lay in shambles. now the once pristinely sculpted places of green were wild and uninhabitable. and there i sit. in the middle of the devastation. weeping. mourning the beautiful things that were taken and mutilated. and i can’t stop mourning. i can’t stop crying. i can’t stop protecting myself. i can’t stop. i can’t let him in. and i’m alone. and i’m scared. and i’m ashamed. and i’m angry.
so come into your garden. come into your garden. come into your garden. it’s up to You now. he told me to take a walk. come out of the gates for a while. take a walk. trust him. and trust You. that You would heal my garden. You would make it right. Make it new. matthew was arrogant. He thought he could fix it. He thought he could fix the broken down places and have them for his own pleasure. my Love told me eric was more noble than Matthew was. because at least Eric knew to run away rather than try. i always thought eric was weak. i despised his spineless, unwilling cowardice. so maybe he did love me. maybe it wasn’t all a lie. maybe he just knew he didn’t have what i needed. and i would have looked for it in him forever. i would have never let go. i would have destroyed his love for me completely by my need. my black-hole need. the need that consumes and destroys everything around it.