Twenty-five years old and screaming at a monster.

This thing is thriving sitting in a chair.

It says “you’re scaring me.”

Because it knows she’s onto it.

It’s all consuming, like an octopus with tentacles in every place it can find.

It started out so small. Like a leech.

But this little thing grew.

It became a habit.

A tendency.

A dependency.

An addiction.

It went from a body that simply asked for an occasional favor

to a complete life sucking force.

It grew limbs, many of them.

And it latched itself on.

It speculated into the skin.

Its limbs grew around the outer appearance.

Twisting like old tree branches.

And then it reached inside.

It wrapped its way around the brain first.

Reliant on it now.

Seize without it now.

Crave it now.

Above .400.

Never enough for the same effect.

And then it made its way and entwined itself with the aorta,

the lungs,

the heart,

And it finally took the organ that could clean it out.

It squeezed the vitality from the filter.

It poisoned the blood.

It choked out all last efforts.



A thief to its host.

It took full hold and it grew from the mouth,

Blocked off the ears,

And poured out the eyes.

This thing, this foreign body,

this parasite,

It was never a part of her.

But it couldn’t die unless it took her with it.


She’s twenty-seven now.

Successfully separating her from it.

The untangled mess on the floor lay before an adult child in the aftermath

One a lifeless, grotesque, cluster of mangled gore,

The other, a gentle, generous, kind, patient, loving, warm person.

The two are entirely different and no longer intertwined.

Sorted out and organized into their rightful distinct beings.

She rises from the floor and knows which one to carry along.

The other will rot in all that it deserves.

Good will always win, for that woman kept what is most dear.

What will be protected.

What will be beautifully bared fruit.

The type of character that always wins the day.

She walks away from all she needed to die to.

She walks toward all that God calls her for.

A beam of light, dim at first, brighter then, now ever brilliant.

From the depth of tremendous weakness came unquenchable strength.

Unfailing hope.






Discernment-addiction is entirely separate from the person it consumes.


These things live in a place that no monster can engulf.

For only in Spirit are they truly unshakable.


#addiction #consumption #faith # hope #love 


“How much of my mother has my mother left in me? How much of my love will be insane to some degree? And what about this feeling that I’m never good enough?  Will it wash out in the water? Or is it always in the blood?”

-In the Blood, John Mayer


“Every patient you see is a lesson in much more than the malady from which he suffers.”
— William Osler


Keep a looking glass in your own heart, and the more carefully you scan your own frailties, the more tender you are for those of your fellow creatures.
— William Osler


“These things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.”——-1 Corinthians 13:13








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