I walked outside to explore the world around me. The sky is blue, the clouds are white as they float on by. I wonder how people would say that clouds took a shape of something that they know. When I look up at the clouds, all I see is clouds. That’s it.
I walk around with eyes face front. A little do I glance at my sides. Trees. Buildings. All I see are trees and buildings. Some as big as a tree, some as small as a tree. They covered my side views as I just walked on by.
As I walk, I start to think about the life I have. I live in a family that is always breaking apart. We yell and scream and beat each other with words like daggers to the flesh and heart. When one strikes, another will strike back. We keep at it until the room is finally blackened with paint. It was a black hole that I live in. There wasn't any light that shined through. It was dark, the absence of light. It was cold, the absence of heat & warmth. When light was to shine through, it was cut off immediately by the shadows of doubt, misunderstandings, and fear.
A sound caught my attention. I looked to my left to see some children playing on a school playground. I paused at a little girl on the other side of the wired fence that separated the world of reality with the world of the children. She is chubbier than the others, crying as the other kids mocked her for her size. “You’re ugly. You’re fat. No one likes you,” is the chant the children made. Na-na-na-Na-na-Na!
With those words banging in my eardrums, I walked away with a memory from my past creeping it’s way to my consciousness. I was bullied like that. “You are ugly and fat” one girl spatted. “No one likes you!” another cursed. “You will die alone!” a boy shouted. I sat down and cried. The tears from my weeping eyes was like a river of rejection. Rejection to be part of a group. Rejection to be liked by the other kids. All because I am fat and ugly. I ran away from those kids that day, to start a routine I have seen some girls in a movie do. Everyday after lunch period had ended, I’d excuse myself from class to “use” the restroom. “Use” is the term I take hold of when I do my daily routine, throwing up all the food I had just eaten. A few days later, I got in trouble.
I shook my head as I kept on walking, the memory fading away back into my subconscious filing cabinets that I have marked, “Never Bring Back Up Again”. Stupid I thought for a moment.
I walk around with eyes face front. A little do I glance at my sides. Trees. Buildings. All I see are trees and buildings. Some as big as a tree, some as small as a tree. They covered my side views as I just walked on by.
As I walk, I start to think about the life I have. I live in a family that is always breaking apart. We yell and scream and beat each other with words like daggers to the flesh and heart. When one strikes, another will strike back. We keep at it until the room is finally blackened with paint. It was a black hole that I live in. There wasn't any light that shined through. It was dark, the absence of light. It was cold, the absence of heat & warmth. When light was to shine through, it was cut off immediately by the shadows of doubt, misunderstandings, and fear.
A sound caught my attention. I looked to my left to see some children playing on a school playground. I paused at a little girl on the other side of the wired fence that separated the world of reality with the world of the children. She is chubbier than the others, crying as the other kids mocked her for her size. “You’re ugly. You’re fat. No one likes you,” is the chant the children made. Na-na-na-Na-na-Na!
With those words banging in my eardrums, I walked away with a memory from my past creeping it’s way to my consciousness. I was bullied like that. “You are ugly and fat” one girl spatted. “No one likes you!” another cursed. “You will die alone!” a boy shouted. I sat down and cried. The tears from my weeping eyes was like a river of rejection. Rejection to be part of a group. Rejection to be liked by the other kids. All because I am fat and ugly. I ran away from those kids that day, to start a routine I have seen some girls in a movie do. Everyday after lunch period had ended, I’d excuse myself from class to “use” the restroom. “Use” is the term I take hold of when I do my daily routine, throwing up all the food I had just eaten. A few days later, I got in trouble.
I shook my head as I kept on walking, the memory fading away back into my subconscious filing cabinets that I have marked, “Never Bring Back Up Again”. Stupid I thought for a moment.
I walked along the road as if I have been walking for years. I wasn't going anywhere. Not really planning where I’d end up. So I’ll just keep on walking.
Walking along, I notice a high school a few feet away. There, another fence separated the world of reality with the world of the young & restless. Another memory had crept back up as I saw many scenes happening on the school lawn. Friends were smiling and laughing. Couples were kissing as if they were going to die the next day. They said “High school is where everything happens.” But behind all that, there sat a girl, ordinary looking with her face covered by the shadows of her fellow classmates. No one was with her as she just watched the teens’ meaning of high school in front of her eyes.
I moved a lot when I was in high school. In just a few months, I would become the new girl all over again like a broken record player. First high school was as mean as ever. I came from a different school that time and knew for certain the public school I was going to attend hated my previous school with a passion. The kids of that high school looked down on me as if I was a worthless piece of trash that would never amount to anything. Fought with a girl who thought she was the queen of the high school. She insulted me with names that were hateful and spiteful. I wanted to cut her throat. Same high school where a “friend” stole the crush I had and then made-out on my birthday. Second high school, it was a whole different state for me. I knew no one and was terrified. The halls filled up quickly like a swarm of bees. I knew no one. I sat alone. Ate lunch alone. The girls I asked to sit with, left as soon as my butt made contact with the bench. Third & final high school, again I knew no one. I moved a few months after I had just started attending my second high school. It was hard to adjust. Everyone looked mean. They gave out faces that looked like Halloween masks! Knowing no one, I ate my lunch in the bathroom everyday. The transitions were hard and it killed me but I knew I was going to be alone.
Breathing a deep sigh, I shoved those memories back into their cabinets called, “Dump Into Furnace…later”. I hated those memories but never could forget them.
I scurry away from the high school, terrified to know what other memories were about to play in my mind if I stayed any longer.
As soon as I was far away, I take in a deep breath. I look up at the sky once more. Blue sky, white clouds. That’s it.
I begin to walk farther and farther down the road. Passing a college brought back my first year of college. I walked quickly for I hated that memory much more. It was the memory of a heart breaking, name-calling, accusations flying, religion bashing, confusions rising.
The name I was called was a term for female dog. I was called that by my very own roommate. I was accused for stealing, which never happened. I was judged for something that I thought I was confused of. My heart broke like a glass shattering all over the hard WOODEN FLOOR, the pieces hard to glue back together. I was confused on everything I did, believed, loved. I lost everything. I was nothing but a wreck!
I start to run as my eyes starts to water from those past aching PAINS. Pass the college, the farther I ran, gasping for air as I pull for a stop. My lungs felt constricted from the immediate sprinting I had done.
Looking back, I see the same buildings and trees that I had just passed. From the ground, I see dirt and not cement or gravel.
I look up at the sky. A shadow is hovering over me. Because of those memories, I can’t seem to find the blue sky and white clouds anymore.
Ahead I see a fork on the road. “Two paths diverge in a yellow wood.” I recite the first line on Robert Frost’s poem The Road Not Taken.
The paths I see takes me to two different places. One was straight, yet narrow and it seemed as if not many has taken this road. Another was wide and crooked. Many feet were marked on this road.
Frustration had finally gotten the best of me. I look towards the narrow pathway, but not many has gone through as for there were not many shoe prints on it. I look towards the crooked path. It looked wide enough so that if I tripped, I would not have trouble finding being lost.
As I begin to walk towards the widened path, I hear my name being called out. It was as loud as a thunderstorm.
Turning around, I saw no one but wondered who had called my name. I bit my lip and took a step back from the entrance of the wide and crooked path.
As I walked backwards to take another look on the two pathways, I SLIP AND FALL onto the ground.
A piece of paper fell upon me, something written faced down upon my face.
Taking a look, a note was written:
Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat:
I took a look to see if anyone else was around and was hiding. The wind blew as though it was brushing off the dust that revealed more of that message on the piece of paper:
Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. ~Matthew 7:13-14
I glanced at the note one more time and questioned once again where it came from.
“Whoever wrote this and just decided to have me SLIP AND FALL onto the ground because of this, it’s not funny. What are you talking about? Narrow leads to life and wide leads to death? Who are you trying to pull? Have you seen the wide path? Many have taken it. And if many have taken it, then it should be alright.” I groaned.
I knew not where those words had come from. I didn't want to be saying out loud to the air. I groaned once again, laying flat on my back to think.
The shadow that has hovered over me, the shadow that came from the memories of the past, it seemed to have lessened when I started to think.
Feeling like a lunatic, I shout from my very lungs, “I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE! I DON’T WANT TO BE REJECTED, HUMILIATED, IGNORED!”
The feelings I had fought over the years came crashing down like hard pouring rain over a land that had been in drought for a long time. I begin to cry.
I cried for what seemed to be like decades. The years of hatred, sorrow, and PAIN. The years of rejection, isolation, and confusion flowed out. I couldn't control it.
I felt a breeze brush over my skin as if it was drying the tears that CONTINUED to come out. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.
Opening my puffy red eyes, I see the note that I had slipped upon earlier; however, it was joined with other notes. It formed a pathway that led to the straight and narrow path.
Picking one up, I saw my name engraved in it with beautiful calligraphy. It was as if it’s personal letters all dedicated to myself.
On the note I had picked up, it read:
My child,
You are not alone for I am with you. I have never left your side since the day I thought of creating you.
and another:
My Child,
You were never worthless. You were born into this world but you are not of this world.
and another:
My child,
I love you with all my heart that I died on the cross for your sins. I saved you from a world of destruction because I love you. It was written: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world though him might be saved.” (John 3:16-17). If it was not for love, then what good would it be? You are the reason I was sent down here 2000 years ago. You are the reason I lived to die. Because I love you very much.
and so on…
It was a never ending sea of notes that had so many love for me.
It was all signed off as: Your Father, Jesus Christ.
Tears formed during every note that I had seen.
It was not tears of sadness or rejection.
It was not tears of pain or anger.
It was tears of love and acceptance.
I cried with a quivering smile as each love Jesus gave me, I received.
On a final note, there was a book underneath. The note read:
Karen,
Because I care so much for you and love you from the moment you were a thought to the woman you are now, I will keep on loving you. On this note it is not a final note from me. Oh no, my child. This book you hold in your hand is My book. It is My book that had been written many many generations ago.
I love you so much that I want you to have this book. It has many stories and many messages that will help you. In every word, in every sentence, every paragraph, on every page, My Love for you is pouring out.
I love you with all my heart and I will never leave your side. No matter what trials you face, you can always talk to me when you are down and hear my reply by the words from this book.
You are not worthless, Karen.
You are more worthy than the golds of this universe.
You are not nothing.
YOU ARE MY CHILD and you have me always and forever.
Love,
Jesus Christ
I looked at the book that I held in my hand, the book that Jesus had all his love pouring out on every word and page.
That book is the Bible.
I wiped the tears that were forming in my eyes once again. I took a deep breath and held my head high.
I felt something forming inside of me. A new feeling. Joy. Happiness. Love.
And nothing felt better than that.
I looked up to the sky. Blue sky, white clouds. But the air felt extremely different.
With the Bible in one hand and the notes clenched to my heart, I begin to walk that straight and narrow.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Many may not understand the feeling I've had all those years ago. Many will say that it is not true. No. The story is the way I saw my life. And the ending is how my life will begin.
Life has changed completely and there are times (most of the time) I still feel lost. But the most wonderful thing about all this is that God has not once abandoned me. So though the story above is about how I saw life. It constantly changes every day. All I know is that I can never give Him up.
So, for those who keeps asking me how I am able to smile and look at life in a different way, now you know. I still love because God still loves me.
Walking along, I notice a high school a few feet away. There, another fence separated the world of reality with the world of the young & restless. Another memory had crept back up as I saw many scenes happening on the school lawn. Friends were smiling and laughing. Couples were kissing as if they were going to die the next day. They said “High school is where everything happens.” But behind all that, there sat a girl, ordinary looking with her face covered by the shadows of her fellow classmates. No one was with her as she just watched the teens’ meaning of high school in front of her eyes.
I moved a lot when I was in high school. In just a few months, I would become the new girl all over again like a broken record player. First high school was as mean as ever. I came from a different school that time and knew for certain the public school I was going to attend hated my previous school with a passion. The kids of that high school looked down on me as if I was a worthless piece of trash that would never amount to anything. Fought with a girl who thought she was the queen of the high school. She insulted me with names that were hateful and spiteful. I wanted to cut her throat. Same high school where a “friend” stole the crush I had and then made-out on my birthday. Second high school, it was a whole different state for me. I knew no one and was terrified. The halls filled up quickly like a swarm of bees. I knew no one. I sat alone. Ate lunch alone. The girls I asked to sit with, left as soon as my butt made contact with the bench. Third & final high school, again I knew no one. I moved a few months after I had just started attending my second high school. It was hard to adjust. Everyone looked mean. They gave out faces that looked like Halloween masks! Knowing no one, I ate my lunch in the bathroom everyday. The transitions were hard and it killed me but I knew I was going to be alone.
Breathing a deep sigh, I shoved those memories back into their cabinets called, “Dump Into Furnace…later”. I hated those memories but never could forget them.
I scurry away from the high school, terrified to know what other memories were about to play in my mind if I stayed any longer.
As soon as I was far away, I take in a deep breath. I look up at the sky once more. Blue sky, white clouds. That’s it.
I begin to walk farther and farther down the road. Passing a college brought back my first year of college. I walked quickly for I hated that memory much more. It was the memory of a heart breaking, name-calling, accusations flying, religion bashing, confusions rising.
The name I was called was a term for female dog. I was called that by my very own roommate. I was accused for stealing, which never happened. I was judged for something that I thought I was confused of. My heart broke like a glass shattering all over the hard WOODEN FLOOR, the pieces hard to glue back together. I was confused on everything I did, believed, loved. I lost everything. I was nothing but a wreck!
I start to run as my eyes starts to water from those past aching PAINS. Pass the college, the farther I ran, gasping for air as I pull for a stop. My lungs felt constricted from the immediate sprinting I had done.
Looking back, I see the same buildings and trees that I had just passed. From the ground, I see dirt and not cement or gravel.
I look up at the sky. A shadow is hovering over me. Because of those memories, I can’t seem to find the blue sky and white clouds anymore.
Ahead I see a fork on the road. “Two paths diverge in a yellow wood.” I recite the first line on Robert Frost’s poem The Road Not Taken.
The paths I see takes me to two different places. One was straight, yet narrow and it seemed as if not many has taken this road. Another was wide and crooked. Many feet were marked on this road.
Frustration had finally gotten the best of me. I look towards the narrow pathway, but not many has gone through as for there were not many shoe prints on it. I look towards the crooked path. It looked wide enough so that if I tripped, I would not have trouble finding being lost.
As I begin to walk towards the widened path, I hear my name being called out. It was as loud as a thunderstorm.
Turning around, I saw no one but wondered who had called my name. I bit my lip and took a step back from the entrance of the wide and crooked path.
As I walked backwards to take another look on the two pathways, I SLIP AND FALL onto the ground.
A piece of paper fell upon me, something written faced down upon my face.
Taking a look, a note was written:
Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat:
I took a look to see if anyone else was around and was hiding. The wind blew as though it was brushing off the dust that revealed more of that message on the piece of paper:
Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. ~Matthew 7:13-14
I glanced at the note one more time and questioned once again where it came from.
“Whoever wrote this and just decided to have me SLIP AND FALL onto the ground because of this, it’s not funny. What are you talking about? Narrow leads to life and wide leads to death? Who are you trying to pull? Have you seen the wide path? Many have taken it. And if many have taken it, then it should be alright.” I groaned.
I knew not where those words had come from. I didn't want to be saying out loud to the air. I groaned once again, laying flat on my back to think.
The shadow that has hovered over me, the shadow that came from the memories of the past, it seemed to have lessened when I started to think.
Feeling like a lunatic, I shout from my very lungs, “I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE! I DON’T WANT TO BE REJECTED, HUMILIATED, IGNORED!”
The feelings I had fought over the years came crashing down like hard pouring rain over a land that had been in drought for a long time. I begin to cry.
I cried for what seemed to be like decades. The years of hatred, sorrow, and PAIN. The years of rejection, isolation, and confusion flowed out. I couldn't control it.
I felt a breeze brush over my skin as if it was drying the tears that CONTINUED to come out. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.
Opening my puffy red eyes, I see the note that I had slipped upon earlier; however, it was joined with other notes. It formed a pathway that led to the straight and narrow path.
Picking one up, I saw my name engraved in it with beautiful calligraphy. It was as if it’s personal letters all dedicated to myself.
On the note I had picked up, it read:
My child,
You are not alone for I am with you. I have never left your side since the day I thought of creating you.
and another:
My Child,
You were never worthless. You were born into this world but you are not of this world.
and another:
My child,
I love you with all my heart that I died on the cross for your sins. I saved you from a world of destruction because I love you. It was written: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world though him might be saved.” (John 3:16-17). If it was not for love, then what good would it be? You are the reason I was sent down here 2000 years ago. You are the reason I lived to die. Because I love you very much.
and so on…
It was a never ending sea of notes that had so many love for me.
It was all signed off as: Your Father, Jesus Christ.
Tears formed during every note that I had seen.
It was not tears of sadness or rejection.
It was not tears of pain or anger.
It was tears of love and acceptance.
I cried with a quivering smile as each love Jesus gave me, I received.
On a final note, there was a book underneath. The note read:
Karen,
Because I care so much for you and love you from the moment you were a thought to the woman you are now, I will keep on loving you. On this note it is not a final note from me. Oh no, my child. This book you hold in your hand is My book. It is My book that had been written many many generations ago.
I love you so much that I want you to have this book. It has many stories and many messages that will help you. In every word, in every sentence, every paragraph, on every page, My Love for you is pouring out.
I love you with all my heart and I will never leave your side. No matter what trials you face, you can always talk to me when you are down and hear my reply by the words from this book.
You are not worthless, Karen.
You are more worthy than the golds of this universe.
You are not nothing.
YOU ARE MY CHILD and you have me always and forever.
Love,
Jesus Christ
I looked at the book that I held in my hand, the book that Jesus had all his love pouring out on every word and page.
That book is the Bible.
I wiped the tears that were forming in my eyes once again. I took a deep breath and held my head high.
I felt something forming inside of me. A new feeling. Joy. Happiness. Love.
And nothing felt better than that.
I looked up to the sky. Blue sky, white clouds. But the air felt extremely different.
With the Bible in one hand and the notes clenched to my heart, I begin to walk that straight and narrow.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Many may not understand the feeling I've had all those years ago. Many will say that it is not true. No. The story is the way I saw my life. And the ending is how my life will begin.
Life has changed completely and there are times (most of the time) I still feel lost. But the most wonderful thing about all this is that God has not once abandoned me. So though the story above is about how I saw life. It constantly changes every day. All I know is that I can never give Him up.
So, for those who keeps asking me how I am able to smile and look at life in a different way, now you know. I still love because God still loves me.
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