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My Journey, My Story, My Name
by Joyce Poet
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Desperately fumbling through the massive library of my memories, I longed to recount and write my story, or at least a close resemblance. I wanted to write one laced with laughter and joy ... and yes, an incredible love. But at the end of the day, torn and crumpled, tear-stained pages littered the floor about my feet.

Thousands of love stories have been woven over time, some real, some fantasy. Unforgettable tales are well known and retold throughout many generations. Some have happy-ever-after endings, like ‘Cinderella’ or end in tragedy, like ‘Romeo and Juliet’. But in none does the princess end up in ragged tennis shoes or cinder-stained jeans. And in all of them, love rings true.

My journey thus far doesn’t look like any of those infamous love stories I’ve read. It is a story told all too often in a hurting world, one of broken roads, abandonment, and broken homes. It is no appealing novel. And there is no grand ending in view.

I attempted twice to create a masterpiece from what little I do know of love. Twice, I failed pitifully. I was about to give up, to lay down my pen, to throw in the proverbial towel. But as I started to walk away, resigned to a life of rolling in the cinders, I spotted a journal sitting off in a corner to itself.

Some of its pages were yellowed. Some were stark-white, blank and inviting. Some were smeared with teardrops. Some were stained with blood. Some were lovingly folded at the corners -- precious memories. All were bound in solid gold. Its cover was emblazoned with ‘Your Journey, Your Story, Your Name’.

I held it in trembling hands and hesitated to read. Were it any other story, I might have rushed forward in eager anticipation. But I was anxious and afraid because I knew it was my difficult journey penned for the whole world to see. It was my story thus far. It contained, somewhere within it, the tragic story behind my name. Such a painful, painful memory.

I closed my eyes, pleading for the strength to go on. When I opened them again, I found them resting on the first page. And I couldn’t help myself; I read:

“It is written, even engraved on the palms of My hands, hands that fashioned you in My image. It is written by the Author and Finisher of your faith. It is written in a covenant of sacred blood. It is written in the Book of Life. It is written and it is sealed forever-after. It is written with loving, knowing fingertips, those fingertips that lift your chin. It is written, My Betrothed, your new name carved on a white stone. It is written in love, abundant life without end. It is written. Yes, and amen.”

Written long before my journey began were the Words, “Many waters cannot quench love. Rivers cannot wash it away.“ Whatever broken roads I travel, whatever storms rage within waters beneath the bridges I cross, Love turns the stumbling blocks to stepping stones and carries me over on the sleeves of a spotless robe. Mine is the love story being consistently written still, today.

I am resigned to not being able to write my own story. That story belongs to an Author so much more capable than myself. My pen is tossed without care at His feet, as will be my crown one day.

I am but a journal in His hands.
© February 1, 2010

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Member Comments
Member Date
Helen Dowd 04 Jul 2010
Joyce, your story brings a lump to my throat. Your unwritten words, as well as your written ones, tell your story well. Please don't give up! Despite computer problems (in another of your articles) and broken heart, tear stained pages, one day--whether in this world or next--your story will be there for all to read. The good thing then, though, should it be in the next life, all the parts you wish you could forget will be blotted out. You will have a clean slate. Your story will touch the hearts of many...Please, dear Joyce, don't give up. Keep your head held hight. "Though all may forget, I [the Lord] will not."..And I shall never forget the encouraging words you have written at the bottom of more than one of my articles...Blessings...Helen
Julia May 05 May 2010
Beautiful...as always. God bless you, Lady!
Lisa Walker Thomas 08 Mar 2010
I walk through your journey with you with a similar story...your words a captivating and real how often have every single one of us been afraid of our own story...But God...he allows for the experiences we have in order to share our testimonies and you have encouraged me in leaps and bounds your words can't be anything other than beautiful the way you've sewn those beautiful words together they are majestic...how beautiful are you! Praise God for your gift and walk into your abundance!
Stephen A. Peterson 02 Feb 2010
Great article! Thank you!
Debra Brand 02 Feb 2010
You haven't lost your touch. AMEN!
Mitzi Busby 02 Feb 2010
This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. You are a precious treasure and my sister.
Sherry Castelluccio  02 Feb 2010
Beautiful as always. I would suggest offering an alternative ending. The questions that keep coming back to me- Is she writing the story or is she giving it up? Is God writing the story through her? What is going to happen next? What is there that I can look forward to in the next chapter? You have such a magnificent way of painting pictures and emotions with your words. Try enhancing your last couple of paragraphs by adding a question or a lingering thought. I hope this helps :)
Sherry Castelluccio  02 Feb 2010
Nevermind. It's perfect the way it is. Reading it again, my questions are answered. See what happens when I try to flex my writing school muscles? I end up sounding like a dork. I need to stick to critiquing my own stuff. Hugs?
Joyce Poet 02 Feb 2010
ROFL @ Sherry! I love you, Lady! I had the same questions myself, actually... like "What do I have to look forward to in the next chapter?" and "Is Cinder Girl's prince (if there even is one!) ever going to get it in gear!?!" LOL. Guess we'll just have to wait and see. Meantime, I've no choice but to rest in His will.


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