The ugly duckling has becoome a swan,
And yet, thoughts linger, musing over times past;
Ugly duckling days have long since departed,
But continue to remind me of loss, loneliness,
Sadness, and regret.
I am haunted by losses--
Of precious things lost to disabiliity, fears,
And pride.
My voice--
My most-treasured possession,
My dear friend
And comforter of my wounded heart,
Has been taken from me.
My heart feels barren
And with only an empty cavern in its place,
My purpose seems vague,
My future dimmer.
What am I to do?
What will fill this shell
And satisfy the longings of my heart?
Deep in my heart I know the answer
To this heart-cry.
The Master is showing me
That my voice must be heard
In whatever way it can;
Expressions from a heart that must be heard
Compel me to put pen to paper
As a living testament
of the sustenance and protection
Of a mighty God.
I am reminded that in self-discovery
We find out who we really are--
Unmasked and vulnerable,
We learn to live honestly;
Desiring to let go of what is carnal,
And reach heavenward for the prize
Of the high-calling of Christ
Which is life eternal.
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