all these years I held on to excuses, knuckles tight, fist clenched
afraid to be vulnerable, available, accessible
shrugging off a call on my life, a burden on my heart
because of fear and past mistakes and hurt
like a parched woman
now I find myself drinking it in
with big gulps
wondering how I missed this vessel
holding life-giving water
a voice whispers,
"(you don't have a Bible degree) you're not enough,
(you have babies) now isn't the time,
(you need better hair/shoes/jeans/accessories) you're too old,
(you don't have enough life experience) you're too young,
(you missed your chance to get involved) it's too late."
But today I tell that voice to shut-up.