More Me Than I Used to Be
3 February 2018
All of my life I've collected pieces of varying sizes and shapes.
I don't know why I held some close and others I hid behind drapes.
Some people offered me distorted pieces and as a hoarder I couldn't see,
That even though they were part of a puzzle, they didn't belong to me.
They were part of someone else's picture, usually those who were trying,
To hand them over to me instead, of by their own box abiding.
Like them I too offered pieces, to others along my path,
And as I'm learning to step back sometimes I have to laugh.
There are some holes inside that make the picture hard to see,
And other places I forced the shape of a distorted figure of me.
I know the image I manipulated, is not the one God made,
For He created everything beautiful just the way they were laid.
At some point I looked in other boxes wishing mine was different,
So I started mixing up our pieces creating something magnificent.
I started forcing pieces together throwing others away,
Stealing some from other people and my picture changed every day.
Where I'm at now is trying to get back to the box that is mine alone,
And with the help of other people, God's will is being shown.
I'm learning how to pick up pieces, the ones I tried to hide,
By giving them to other people or thrown away in pride.
I'm letting go of the distorted ones that don't fit anywhere,
And giving them back to their owners, so their box won't be so bare.
God painted the picture on my box to be the way he desired,
And I'm done trying to change things, it makes me just too tired.
Slowly but surely as I get things in order I know one day I'll find,
The picture that God had planned for me that got lost in my mind.
Pieces are finally fitting together, in the way I know He wants.
He's telling me that I'll be ok in my heart and in my thoughts.
The only thing I know for sure, is I'm more me than I used to be,
And I know the final piece of art is more perfect than eyes can see.
3 February 2018
All of my life I've collected pieces of varying sizes and shapes.
I don't know why I held some close and others I hid behind drapes.
Some people offered me distorted pieces and as a hoarder I couldn't see,
That even though they were part of a puzzle, they didn't belong to me.
They were part of someone else's picture, usually those who were trying,
To hand them over to me instead, of by their own box abiding.
Like them I too offered pieces, to others along my path,
And as I'm learning to step back sometimes I have to laugh.
There are some holes inside that make the picture hard to see,
And other places I forced the shape of a distorted figure of me.
I know the image I manipulated, is not the one God made,
For He created everything beautiful just the way they were laid.
At some point I looked in other boxes wishing mine was different,
So I started mixing up our pieces creating something magnificent.
I started forcing pieces together throwing others away,
Stealing some from other people and my picture changed every day.
Where I'm at now is trying to get back to the box that is mine alone,
And with the help of other people, God's will is being shown.
I'm learning how to pick up pieces, the ones I tried to hide,
By giving them to other people or thrown away in pride.
I'm letting go of the distorted ones that don't fit anywhere,
And giving them back to their owners, so their box won't be so bare.
God painted the picture on my box to be the way he desired,
And I'm done trying to change things, it makes me just too tired.
Slowly but surely as I get things in order I know one day I'll find,
The picture that God had planned for me that got lost in my mind.
Pieces are finally fitting together, in the way I know He wants.
He's telling me that I'll be ok in my heart and in my thoughts.
The only thing I know for sure, is I'm more me than I used to be,
And I know the final piece of art is more perfect than eyes can see.
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