But then I will win her back once again. I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there. I will return her vineyards to her and transform the Valley of Trouble into a gateway of hope. She will give herself to me there, as she did long ago when she was young.  -Hosea 2:14-15


She urges the girl she once knew to come back

To her.

To life.


Who will you be today? she asks

The Christian

Made in God’s own image.

Who gave it all up.

Who indeed picked up her cross and followed Him.

No sex, to mask the emotional horror acquired over the years.

No men, to fill the cracks.

The cracks which if you allow, the light to fill between

You could be made whole.

A sight to behold.

But you’ve clamoured up once again


Cement is the glue that now holds those cracks together.


Who will you be today? she asks

The Rebel

That sits, hurling questions at God


Before He can answer,

You’re off.

Off, to make sense of what seems incomprehensible

Off, to build idols from what you swore you were over.

Who you swore, you were over.


Who will you be today? she asks

The Creative

Bleeding ink from her soul

Emotions, raw.

Laid out on blank pages,

For all to see.

Draped in the cloak of transparency

The facade,


With every outdated version of herself


Who will you be today? she asks

The Two-Sided Coin

Who desires one thing,

But does another.

Who preaches one thing,

But lives another.


What will you be today?


I can’t figure out if my work is




Who will you be today? she asks

The Sinner

Where seduction dances in her eyes,

Rolls off her lips

Lives in the arch of her back,

When she






Who will you be today?

A Mirror

Reflecting back all the ugly.

All the Iniquity

All the sin

That needs to



Who will you be today? she asks

The Accuser

That shouts at her,

To get better.

To get over it.

That is sure her mess is her fault.


Today, will you be

The Insecure

That places her worth in the hands of departed lovers, whom she leaves fragments of herself with.


The Hospital Patient

Who they think can’t thrive without a dose of medication every morning.


Who will you be today? she asks

The Recluse

That no longer recognises the person before her

Whose whole identity is wrapped up in the weight gain.

That would rather sit,

Wrapped and Sheltered

Away from the

Wounds of unwanted words

Away from

The possibility of opinions that do not favour her.

The death of Debbie, she still mourns.


Are you still the

Wounded Infant

That began a bloodied baby, left wrestling in her own dirt.

Trapped in a 24-year-old’s body,

Preventing the fully formed woman from



I am lost.

With no clue and no more heart left.


So then I continue to pray,

In Him.

In love,

In light,

Whatever it may be,



You are found.












2 thoughts on “Lost.

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