Finding my Place

 Walking into

The room,

Walls lined

With Barres

And covered in mirrors,

Crowded with women in

Cute leggings

And tank tops.

I put my water bottle

Down by a nearby

Set of weights,

 

But as I do I am

Quickly rebuked

By a talkative one

Who says,

In a tone as sour

As spoiled milk,

“That was my spot,”

She sideways glances at

Her friend nearby.

 

I apologize and

Find another empty

Set of weights,

And all of a sudden,

The empty crawls

Right down

My throat

And into

My gut.

 

Everyone is talking to

Someone but me,

And here I sit

In the middle

Of the room,

Feeling awkward

And like

I don’t belong.

 

Deciding I can’t

Stand it any more,

I get up to look at

Merchandise in

The front

Of the shop.

Trying to chit chat

With a young, tall,

And slender girl in

Pink leggings

Who is looking too,

I tell her

I need a pair

Of black leggings,

Like these,

 

She frantically

Reaches over me

Into the pile

And takes the last

Pair that was my size.

Tucking it under her arm,

She heads toward

The register,

Without another

Word to me,

 

And there I stand

Without a friend,

Or the leggings,

I had hoped to buy.

Swiped right out from

From under me,

As if I wasn’t even there.

 

Heading back

As the music starts,

I swallow the

Lump in my throat.

The happy chatter

Feels a bit like

A butter knife

In my back,

Or an annoying drone

That won’t
Leave me be.

 

The teacher counts

On beat and

Going through

The motions,

I begin to

Talk to myself

And to You,

 

“It’s about the exercise,

Not the friends,

Or fitting in,

Or the black leggings.”

.

I begin to

Huff and puff

And argue

With myself

Refuting

My own argument,

 

“Its not just about

The exercise

It ‘s about

Connection,

I want to

Be connected

To someone.

Anyone ,

In this moment,

I want a place

To be.

 

And then

I hear it

Soft and gentle,

Like Your

Voice always comes,

 

“You are connected

To Me

I am your place

To be.

 You are mine.

 That’s the brand

You wear

The group you

Belong to,

 The tag

On your back says

Bought with a price

And dearly loved.”

 

Arms bicep curling,

I tell myself truth.

Those feelings,

The ones that said

Uninvited,

Unloved, and unseen,

Those were twisted lies

Spun and intended to

Keep my soul

From freedom.

 

And slowly

The lump starts shrinking

And the empty starts leaving

As I work this out

To the beat of the music.

 

And the fighter

In me steps up

To the challenge

Of working out

My faith,

 And the believing,

 

I am loved.

I belong,

To the One

Who matters most,

And I have found

My place

Forever

With Him.

 

 

Isaiah 43:1

 But now, this is what the Lord says— he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

 Psalm135:4

 For the Lord has chosen Jacob to be his own, Israel to be his treasured possession 


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Never Alone

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Here’s to All the Broken Ones