My Tools

My Tools

5 January 2018

I was given two simple tools

when I first opened my eyes.

They were both meant to help me

to get beyond the lies.

One was a ladder that extended

way beyond my farthest sight;

One was a sturdy shovel

to dig through pain or fight.

The goal was to move forward

and share love along the way,

But somehow I got lost

and in pain I chose to stay.

Instead of using my shovel

to help move the pain aside,

Or fight through the emotions

until they would subside,

I kept digging even deeper

And the walls began to climb.

One day when I looked up

I saw the cage inside my mind,

In that moment I remembered

the infinite ladder on the edge,

And I hoped the extending power

could reach down below the ledge.

In earnest I yelled out

hoping someone would hear,

And the One who gave the tools

showed He was actually very near.

He threw me down the ladder

but again I got distracted.

I started digging yet again

and the ladder never retracted.

Once I started noticing

I was in pain and alone,

I looked up another time

and could feel the sun that shone.

I cried out as I did before

thinking no one was listening,

But the ladder lowered down to me

and I could hear Someone whistling.

Again I got lost in sorrow and grief

and kept digging my life away,

Until at last, I finally realized

that I was digging my very own grave.

I yelled and I screamed

and then cried out loud;

I could not see beyond

that stifling black cloud.

I blamed the One and Only

who given me that shovel,

And anyone else's name

I could barely mumble.

Never once did I think

I may be doing something wrong,

Until at last I cried out,

"Can you please make me strong?"

This time with a thud

the ladder came crashing.

I realized in that moment

what I'd been lacking.

For just the way

I'd been working that shovel;

A ladder is meant to be climbed

not there to be grovelled.

The One up above

had been giving me chances,

A way to get out

but I only took glances.

I took a deep breath

and with shovel in hand,

I grabbed onto that ladder

and lifted my foot from sand.

The roots of the hole

like a strong jagged thorn,

Were the scars of my heart

trying to hook me to mourn.

They grabbed onto my clothes

to be a distraction;

but I remembered that shovel

was meant for protection.

So using that shovel

to break through the emotion,

I continued climbing upward

causing quite a commotion.

I must have looked crazy

emerging from down below,

Swinging a shovel on a ladder;

it was quite a show.

But as I looked around

tears filled my eyes.

I saw other holes around me

and I could hear the cries.

You see I wasn't the only one

who used the shovel the wrong way,

Most of us had gotten lost

and couldn't see the light of day.

There were other people still

who were emerging from their holes,

As we interlocked our eyes

we finally remembered our lost goals.

With our shovels in our hands

and our ladders leading the way,

We continued on our journeys

and knew we'd be okay.