Gina Maria

You never showed me your journal.

You asked,                                           “Do you want to read my journal?”

And I said,                                            “If you want to show it to me, then yes, I want to read your journal.”

You stood up and went inside.    But something happened. 

And you never showed me your journal.

my beauty, a gift.my soul, a giver.                                my body, soft.

can he touch it?  please?             he’ll like it. i’ll like it too.

wait. why am I asking you?

i know what you’ll say….

        …and that i’ll do it anyway. 

but, when we’re done,  i don’t hide from you. i don’t deny an entrance to your presence,

and neither do you.

first, let me say…I get it.

your experiences are mysterious, but I know you’re not delirious.

here it is. your truth. what you do.

when you walk into a room, angels  respond, pull you along, sing you songs, right your wrongs.

through action and consequence, despondence and responses, their light guides you home.

but…why you?

my mind’s mirage flashes back to the conception of the idea of you. displays of deity and thievery desiring your desire, negotiating deals, defining what is real.

everybody wants you.

but not everybody can have you…because your will is free.

you’re born. you learn until it’s time to unlearn…eventually erasing all preconceptions to seek out what is true,

and blue and yellow and green and turquoise,

until a voice…your destiny’s voice speaks.

inviting you to enter the realm of the knowledge of all things, like the serpent did with Eve.

and you go.
will you ever come back?

i don’t know. you’re still so young.

but I just wanna say, before the light goes away…
that He 

is the only way. 

Every day
A chapter

Not a page,
A chapter

This is new for me
Not for you
But for me

All those years I was frozen in time
reading the same old lines,
but now as we build our book’s spine
there’s no time to rewind

my eyes are always open
to connect the consequences
so I don’t need to reread a few lines up
When I open up
To You

But even if I do

Need to review
Our most recent rules and tools…
It’s cool.

It’s cool.

I say a prayer for my future self
When life ain’t as fun
As it is right now
With You,
With You.

i tell secrets to people driving in other cars.
i talk to myself.
and i talk to my friends
more than i talk to you.

when I talk to You, You take away
all that ails me.

but…
i like my anxiety.
it’s my blanket.
And i like my lust,
it’s keeps me from boredom.
and i like my pride.
it gives me something to talk about
and i like my laziness.
it buys me time.

but at some point
I inevitably crack
under the pressure of maintaining my façade.
I crack under the pressure of convincing others that I’m somehow mentally, physically, and emotionally thriving in
walking without repentance.
I’m not.
I can’t be.
The mind ruled by the flesh is DEATH
But the mind ruled by the spirit is LIFE
And

PEACE.

So when I crack
And your light shines through
Melting me…
You share secrets.
I remember that it was not I who chose You
But You
Chose me.

when you say that you’re a follower of Jesus
and i then ask you where you worship
i am not merely making conversation.
i am not merely mocking those
who’s dependency relies in religiosity.
i’m just curious.
i’ve found my people,
and i pray you find yours too.
’cause it’s a long road home, not meant to walk alone.
each day, a journey
of loss, love, songs, wrongs, gifts, fits, writs of distance & resistance
sometimes we feel Him, sometimes we don’t.
but when we gather as one on sunday morning
the unpredictability of monday thru saturday
doesn’t matter.
well, it does matter.
because it reminds us that we’re just passing thru
and that THIS is the reality we cling to…
and somehow, another week has passed by,
and we all made it here safely.
we give Him glory
together
because when we sing and shout, He melts our doubts.
and as I look around, I am engulfed in freedom
and i know i’m not crazy, because, see?
he loves Jesus too!
and so does she
and she
and she
and he
and he
and the many of centuries past.
suddenly, it sinks in
my faith deepens, my hope renews.
I BELIEVE IN WHAT IS TRUE.
and this joy party i participate in every sunday morning is just a
FORETASTE
of what i will partake in for all of eternity.
and there’s something special about this crew God led me to
they’re a part of something bigger than themselves
and now, i am too
and all i need to do
is be
myself…
…that’s how you know you found your home.
so, church is not a buzzword
thrown around to heap guilt and shame
it’s an extension
of our new name.

I’m sorry. I can’t speak. 

My brain freezes when I feel weak.

See…usually, by now, we’d already have kissed. Kissing creates effortless conversation. Our flesh does the talking.  And my flesh never shuts up.

But I’m new, now. And I’m getting to know you, now.

So when the question flips to me like it does in the movies, I forget my lines.

What’s wrong with me? When I’m with you, I get hit with such an intense sense of the present, the thought of reaching back into my catalogue of stories feels fake and forced. So I just don’t.

But…Can conversation continue if I avoid answering your question? And without kissing to take the place of words, where do we go from here?

Only now, here, alone with you, do I finally see….

I’ve always relied on my sparkly eyes to speak for me. 

But eye talk is cheap. It covers my fear of uncovering myself. Insecurites gather at the shore of my personality like walls of sand. 

Year after year. I fear the deep. 

But when do I trust you? Are you still sizing me up, or have you already decided that I’m worth knowing? I need to be honest, right? 

Well,

I 

Don’t

Know.
But………..

You might decide that I’m not cool enough for you, after all.

And that’s cool too.

Hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches. 

Hear the screeching collision of cultures.

Hear the humility necessary for unity.

Because Truth,

Doesn’t agree to disagree.

Divine daughtership.

Bought by blood not shed by me.

This inherited coveted covering forever provides protection from the storm. You’ll surely save me space ‘neith the shadow of your wings. I don’t even need to bring an umbrella. Your love always keeps me dry.

But if only I would try,

Maybe I could fly 

With you.

Not to simply get by a passerby,

But to lie in the fire of your love.

What do I need to do? What moves me from the bare minimum of Your presence to the bone marrow of your Heart? 

Why, it just 

takes 

time.

In this broken world, we all believe lies – lies we tell ourselves about ourselves. Lies that shoot roots into shame and fear, year after year. Until, someway or somehow, we catch a glimpse of freedom. Maybe we see someone else walking out their calling and their luminance entices us. Maybe we hear an encouraging word, so we yearn to learn our worth, and unlearn our hurt. 

Throughout the past few years, God has revealed to me the plans He has for my life and has given me the faith to believe that in Christ, I am a new creation. I now define myself by His definition of me. And as a result, I walk taller, I breathe deeper, I move mountains. And others notice. Others refuse to define me. 

But here’s the thing. I’m white.

Because I’m white, my word reigns supreme. I am authorized to authorize my own identity. 

But if I was black, no matter how hard I may try to walk in the light of my true identity, the color of my skin would keep me below the lies I once believed. A white person’s perception of me would hold more value than my own perception of myself. 

And this is not okay.