Self-Imposed Exile

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Self-Imposed Exile

Shadows.
Darkness.
Blackness.
Nothingness.
Loneliness.
Isolation.

Sin.

Every wound.
Every injustice.
Every oversight.
Every offense.
Every failure.
Every defeat.

All of the abuse.
All of the humiliation.
All of the shame.
All of the guilt.

Forced out of consciousness.
Refusing to see, to feel, to confront.

Each and every incident
Frozen in time
Retaining its intensity of emotion.
Holding me captive,
Behind its own prison door.
Areas long ago sealed.
Never to be exposed.
Doors bolted.
Entry denied.

Yet I am not alone in my self-imposed exile.

Hatred.
Anger.
Bitterness.
Revenge.
Rage.
Unbearable agony.
Immense Fear.

These are my constant companions.

Mercy.
Grace.
Faith.
Humility.
Repentance.
Love outpoured.
Light.

I hold the keys
To every single prison door
That I hide behind.
Will I allow Him entrance?
Will I follow His lead?
Will I take the chance?

Trust.
Hope.
Unlocking every door.
Walking back through every recorded wrong.
Finishing what began long ago.
Putting away every childish thing.

Stepping out into liberty,
Like I’ve never known before.
Freedom to move,
And room to breathe.

Acceptance.
Righteousness.
Peace.
Joy.
Love.

Home.

~ Laurie Pontious-Andrews

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About unabashedhope

The name Unabashed Hope comes from my favorite poem by Emily Dickinson. Unabashed means not embarrassed, disconcerted or ashamed. I believe Emily's poem, Hope is the Thing with Feathers, says it best: Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.

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