Say Good Bye by Sanctus Real

In His Hands

I said goodbye to my one true earthly love. I couldn't face him in person. I didn't want him to see the hurt on my face or the many tears I had been shedding that day. He came to get his stuff. The green shirt is gone. The scent of his clothes...gone. I kept hoping he would realize that I and the kids were the best thing that ever happened to him; that we were blessings Poppa had brought into his life, that we love him and need him. My heart is so broken it's hard to see a brighter day ahead, but I know I have to move forward without him. He didn't want me in his life...me, his Rachel, the one he loved.

I pray for him, but have little or no hope that he will return. I promised I would never beg him to come back, and I won't. I won't pursue his love. He should have been pursuing me. My heart wishes he would realize what he's lost and decide to become a man, get a job, go to church and make something of himself so he can be the husband and father he was meant to be to us, but only a surendered heart and Poppa could make that happen.

I've let go of my one true love. I gave my love for him to Poppa, because it hurts too much to have any love in my heart. Poppa heal me. It hurts so much I don't want to breathe.

Fairy Tales by my friend Ryan Morris

I wrote this this evening

.....Ever After

The life of a fairy tale.

Can be like our own.

The ending is happy.

But the story unknown.



The story begins.

Then there’s always a twist.

You can’t get to the ending.

Unless you persist.



Some stop reading the story.

When things, they look bleak.

They don’t have the strength.

Their hearts are too weak.



So they grab a new tale.

Then the reading begins.

If it ends in the middle.

Then nobody wins.



So things just seem hopeless.

Because we always quit.

We don’t finish the story.

To the fear we submit.



God tells us, “Hold on.”

“The ending is near.”

“Just keep reading the story.”

“Don’t give in to fear.”



“Believe in My ending.”

“Believe and then hope.”

“That the hero will climb up.”

“From the end of his rope.”



And so you continue

The prince finds his queen

The greatest fairy tale ending

You ever had seen



But had you not finished.

The true ending unknown.

The prince would not have a queen.

To share with his throne.





Fairy tales are filled.

With both sadness and laughter.

Where you finish the story.

Becomes your ever after.

Garters and Stockings

This may be the hardest thing to write, but I feel I need to share. I know other women hurt from what husbands say or don't say in the bedroom. Oh, how I loved him -adored him- and would have given anything for him. Our passion was like electricity at times. Just looking at each other from across the room. My heart always filled up with butterflies ..every single time I saw him -even at his worst, his ugliest, and meanest. He had days of passion for me that would then slip into his walls going up. He would become distant and cold. Then it would turn to anger, and finally rage. I never understood the reasons, but I would wait. I would keep waiting ...waiting ...waiting for him to make love to me -to desire me. Bedtime was torture at times. I laid there wondering what was wrong with me. He would tell me, "You're beautiful and hot." but then he would just make excuses for why he wouldn't be with me. The times we were together were special to me. Even though sometimes I would think the foreplay could be better, or that we could actually try something new; to me, just being with him was enough. I was satisfied to be with the man I was completely in love with.
One night he was drunk. He nearly cried telling me how beautiful and hot I was, but he couldn't do anything because he was so messed up physically. He didn't feel worthy, because he felt he wasn't a good provider. It broke my heart that he felt that way, because I always loved him anyway ...he was my man.

Harsh words were said that evening, the night he walked out the door. He broke me as a woman -the very essence of who I am as woman. He cut me deeply, shredding me into pieces. He lied and said he wasn't romantically in love with me. I believe in my heart it was a lie, because when he wasn't in  his shut-down or anger phase, he did desire me. I'm not sure if he just believed this lie for himself or if he just made this up to find a reason to abandon me. Even our wedding night -he forgot the tender moments. I cried so hard.
I had tried so hard to be what he wanted and needed. I remember going to Victoria's Secret and buying the lingerie that he liked -garters and stockings. I was so excited to come home and show him, but once again he had no response to the act of love I had done for him. He doesn't know the hurt I felt that night. I never did get to use them. They stayed in the bag ...waiting -just like me. He would tell me I look so beautiful when I'm asleep. He would look over and gaze at me. I don't understand. I don't know why my soft skin or body which he said he loved and was perfect for him -he would just reject. I know he suffers depression, so I was patient. I waited for the sweet loving, caring man to emerge. The one who had fire for me, but he only came out once in a while. Kisses, holding hands -they came only when he would let his walls down. I always thought I was a safe, soft place for him to land -a safe refuge and comfort if he needed me, but for some reason it felt like I wasn't allowed the same thing. I miss him so much. I miss when we kissed. He always wanted a passionate woman ...one who desired and wanted him. That was who I was. We were a match made in heaven it seemed...

but The lies he convinced himself of stripped everything away -just as fast as lingerie gets taken off of a beautiful body. Why couldn't he just appreciate what he had in front of him? Our wedding rings have the words inscribed on them: I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. Solomon 6:3 I miss my lover, my husband, my best friend. Written By Jenny Williams  Copyright 2011

I Don't Apologize

Yesterday held a lot of tears. I was captured by a sneaking tidal wave of emotions when I recieved the text that my husband wanted to get all his stuff from the house. I somehow had hoped he would come to his own realization of wanting to come back and love us -that small hope that maybe he would realize we were special treasures and that Poppa had brought into his life, that he would choose to find work and provide for us and choose to be the man he was called to be.

The tidal wave was the finality of it all. Hope came crashing down and was swept away from me and my shredded heart. I swear the tears are like the salt of the sea and they fall into my gaping, raw wounds.

It takes strength to show tears more than it does to hide them. I've cried what feels like oceans. Our Poppa God catches them all in a bottle and holds them. I pray He turns them to perfume of His beauty and grace for me to wear, because this pain is so great, so raw and so real yet surreal.

I was praying to Poppa God in my pile of clothes, and I was saying sorry for loving him....my husband. I heard His still, gentle, firm voice say to me, "Don't apologize for loving him. I chose you to love him." I began to ask forgiveness for making this great vast mistake, and I once again heard Poppa say, "It wasn't your mistake. Don't apologize. It was his mistake that he chose to make."
That was healing for me, because I believe in my heart that I was anointed to be his wife. God gives us unconditional love. It's not human love, but perfect love that comes from heaven.
Love doesn't walk away...People do by the choices they make, so I don't apologize for loving him. I loved him more than any man in my life. Heaven help him to someday realize this. I fear by then it will be too late.

Green Shirt

Last night was a full night. I went to the waterfront in downtown Portland, sipped wine, watched the sunset, walked on the pier ,took beautiful photos, rode a man-driven carriage, got sprayed with the most amazing fountain. It was a warm, balmy night, and there were lovers and families out everywhere. Even though I was in the most romantic of places to be, and there were sights and pleasant smells for me to engage in, my mind still could not forget the sadness, wishing I was with my husband -the one who is supposed to be by my side. I'm so thankful for the opportunities and so happy to be out experiencing life, but it just still feels so empty when it's not with the one you love and wish you could share it with. He has taught me to live without his love and I'm learning to practice this agonizing, heart-wrenching lesson. Lessons I never desired to even know from him, having to go even one day or night without the one you love.
I went home and climbed into my empty sad bed. Curled up with the green shirt. His shirt. I know I have to let it go...let him go. His natural scent mixed with the notes of his cologne. It's been the only security I could feel when he would leave me stranded alone waiting up for him at night; waiting, crying and praying for him to come home. So many times I went through this. I don't even understand fully how he could or would do this to me, or if he even knew the pain or damage it caused me all those times. The truth is, I never should have put up with that -him coming and going as he pleased. The kids and I were only an option for him. I'd make excuses for him, because I just didn't want to lose him again, but the truth was that I was taken for granted, I and everything I so freely would offer.
I almost washed that shirt a couple of days ago, but I knew. I knew his smell would be gone, just like He is. His scent is fading, just like the love in my heart is for him. As for tonight, tonight I will crawl into bed and try desperately to fall asleep cuddling close to his shirt against my cheek. Hopefully no tears come, because I'm really so damn tired. Good night green shirt. Written by Jenny Williams,  Copyright 2011

Dear X You Don't Own Me by Disciple

It Feels Like Tonight

It's been a few weeks since he left. When he said he was just going for a walk to cool off, but didn't come back. This was the norm for him, for our lives. I would cry for days. Frantic, on my knees crying out to Poppa. Praying he would come back. Worried sick if he was ok, fighting my tormented feelings, wondering if he was going back to her...the one who convinced him to leave me before, trying hard not to give in to fear, because with love there should be no fear.



I cleaned our room.Well, some of it...lol. What I got done with, it was progress: My bed. Our bed...still trying to get used to the empty side. 2 a.m. still haunts me, because he inevitably would be up at that hour on his lap top with me sleepily looking over with a smile on my face whispering," I love you, baby".



I found a sweet little note as I was going through his stuff on his side of the bed. One of my surprises that I had tucked away for him to find. "To my best friend, my lover, my husband- You're smokin' hot". I had hid it in his smokes. I'm always cheeezy that way, but he said he liked me that way.



I've been seeing friends, hanging out, going places. Doing things I love. A man paid me a compliment and told me I was gorgeous. It made my day- maybe even my week. I needed that.


As a woman, I miss how he made me feel beautiful, but he stopped noticing. The light bulb that made me glow was burnt out.



I do photo therapy. I photograph myself with different lighting- especially natural light. I'm fascinated by portraits. Not of myself, just portraits in general. Someday I will get a decent camera and take pics of others.


I see the hurt and loss in my eyes. This woman who is choosing to be strong and brave, but is oh so very tired of it all.

Kaleidoscope

I look through the kaleidoscope of my emotions, crashing down in colors of pain.

The looking glass is dark and murky

I can't seem to find my way.

The winshield of my future is fogged up

by countless tears that fall like endless rain.



Desperately clinging closely to you

Blindly, I find I'm in a meadow of dark shadow

Realizing we're swaying quietly and slowly

But I can't hear the music or know the meaning of it's beat

Just the sound of my heart bleeding out

Into deep pools and puddles at my feet.



The air is misty and grey,

Like vapors rising of my broken dreams that have gone away.

Strangely, I feel this meadow is somehow safe

And I hear you whisper my name.