And She Ran…

I decided to look through some old journals the other day.
I write a lot, I don’t know if you can tell… But I write everything down, or at least I attempt to.
I write when I’m sad, depressed, upset, or happy.
I write about the things that are on my mind: my dreams, my fears, my heartaches, my worries.
I was going through a hard time when I wrote this poem. I remember it like it was yesterday.
I wasn’t sure where to go or where to look; I just ran. Physically, I was sitting down. I was too depleted to run.
But mentally, I ran. I ran faster and faster until, in a moment, I came to a haulting stop. My head jerked upward.
Words came to my mind and I quickly found my journal and a pen and wrote this poem.
I remember my hands shaking as the words came faster and faster on paper, until I finished it.
It all made sense.
Why run? I thought. Why run when I know that this will work out?
So, this is the poem I wrote… I wrote it all down. And it just flowed. It just came.
And here it is.

And She Ran
She just ran and ran
Looking for an answer
to the unsolved pains in her life.
And as she walked away from
her hope, and the fears took over,
One thing that she cried…
She wanted to be free,
from the pain she was feeling,
but the farther she ran,
the closer they came.
Until one day, she sat on the ground,
and looked up to the sky.
Her tears were stained,
the rain was falling,
but she didn’t notice that for once this time.
All she wanted was relief
from the pain she felt.
Her hopes were far away.
And then her eyes, swollen from cries,
Opened to the light of day.
And just like that, it all made sense,
Why her running didn’t cause them to leave.
Her fears, her tears,
the rain, her pain,
Just pushed her to the cross to grieve.
And when the tears had stained
and the rain showed sun,
her eyes were red, but it was done.
She ran again, but this time back,
She realized Jesus was what she lacked.
And as she returned, her smile in place,
The tears no longer stained her face.
And she just stood there,
looking at the rainbow,
Realizing the storm was over.
And trusting that God really does work
And makes beauty from pain,
She’d no longer run
in the pouring rain.


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