Shattered Silence

The Estate of Love (Photo Credit belongs to Photographer: Rachel Barnitz)  We have cheapened the estate of love.   We have turned it into a thing to obtain, rather than a state to be.   We have exchanged its true meaning of purpose, value, and life, for that of one night stands, unintentional flirting, and hearts being led along on a string. (Photo Credit belongs to Photographer: Rachel Barnitz) Through tear stained eyes I see girls giving up who they are just to make a guy like them.   Through the fake teeth smiles of filters and camera angles on Instagram photos, we try to portray a “presentable” image of ourselves where guys can scroll as they please, and girls can plunge deeper into self-denial.   We begin to teach ourselves that this state of being is normal, and in fact detrimental if we ever expect to fulfill the love we crave. But you see, I think that this is where we as a society have gotten this concept of love entirely wrong. ...

Heartbreak  ("It was better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all": Photo Credits belong to Photographer: Rachel Barnitz) Temporarily bruised, not permanently shot they tell me.  It will only hurt for a little while.  But if that is the truth, then why do I feel like I am caving inside? Like a wall has been torn down and I will surely die of cardiac arrest at any moment.  That I simply won’t make it out alive because this pain that is deep inside me will fester out into my being.  For loving you was like watching a grenade blow up, but being too enthralled to move out of the way.  Too encompassed by the good looks of deception and witty charm given, to recognize and realize the mask you portrayed.  But that’s the thing about heartbreak, and the parts they don’t tell you.  That when you love, you risk, and when you risk, you fall, and when you fall, you break, and when you break you shatter. Yet I still sup...

Silence Sometimes, the prayer is silence. It speaks to us in the shadows of the night with glimmering intuitions. It corners us into the rooms of our deepest and darkest fears, leaving us to confront them until the break of day. Yet something about this connotation scares us. It eats us alive.   It makes us uncomfortable.   It creeps up our skin until the fabrics crawl. But then the day breaks, the baby cries, the birds chirp, and the silence is broken. The time of stillness that was in the air is gone.   It is quickly replaced by the hustling, bustling, and quickness of life. And before we know it, we question what is happening.   We don’t understand how life in itself can be so cruel.   How the world outside of our windows is so chaotic and harsh.   So in this moment, we begin to miss the silence. The words unspoken, and the voices unheard.   The notes before they are sang, and the words before they are said. Yet it ...

Built Up Walls I've built up the walls around me so high that I can no longer see over them. They guard me and protect me from the people who say they want to know me, but are merely only curious. They keep me locked inside like dungeon walls as if that can save me from heartache. For I once learned to love and it was all wrong. It broke me.   It shattered me. It tore down my walls. So over time I started stacking and I built up those walls. I created them by scratch as I surfaced from the fall. They comforted me, they balanced me, they echoed my cries. But if that's the truth, then why am I so lonely inside? Perhaps I guess it is time that I tear back down those walls. That I let this new person get to know me, and break down my walls. That I believe they are good and at least give them a chance, for what good are these walls if all they do is keep me in? It is time to love again, so I tear down these walls. As my heart quivers and my body shakes I pull ...

The Art of Prayer When I was little, I used to have a notebook where I would write down who I would pray for every single day. As I filtered through the pages I laughed at how much paper I had wasted. How worthless the little book was. How I had only written a handful of names in sloppy big colorful writing on each page and then designated a new one for each day even if the names were the same.   But then I stopped for a second and I started to think. How much time do I take now to write down who I am going to pray for?   Designating a separate page for the hand scrawled names? And sadly, the reality to that question is that I don't , but I need to . I need to go back to that inner child who found joy in writing those names and truly remembering to pray for them each night as my mom held my hand. And I wept . I wept because that's what Jesus calls of each of us to do . That I would laugh at such an innocent but beautiful act that I didn't know the val...

To the guy who broke my heart, (Photo Credits Belong to Photographer: Rachel Barnitz)   As I have mentioned in old Blog posts before this, I have experienced the breaking of a broken heart.   I have felt what it feels like to have someone that you’re completely head over heels in love with, break and shatter your beautiful walls.   I have felt what it feels like to twist and angle the situation a thousand times over and over again in your head, replaying what you wish it would have been like.   I have even experienced the grief and aftermath of tears that won’t stop flowing even though I never even dated him.   However , that was then , and this is now . In the past, I would like someone based on who I thought they were.   I would begin to slowly but surely morph them into who I truly thought they were, and you know what the saddest part was? That that view was what I really saw.   That I saw that Godly man, instead of the Christ...

"Life is short, I wanna live it well. I’ve got one life, one story to tell." (Switchfoot, “Live it well”) I have spent far too many of my days crying in my bed because I was depressed for no reason. I have spent far too many of my days comparing myself to other people instead of being happy with who God created me to be. I have spent far too many of my days worrying about trivial matters that really don't matter. I have spent far too many of my days trying to please other people, often accidentally morphing myself into who they want me to be. I have spent far too many of my days thinking my big dreams in this small town were too silly to reach and pursue.   But, I have not spent far too many of my days laughing and crying from laughter until the sun rises because this life is just too beautiful to live. Or being happy with my gifts and talents that are unique as created by our Father above. Or not giving a care in the wo...