Poem of Courage for the Warrior Soul

"Your most profound and intimate experiences will likely be in your darkest days - when your heart is broken, when you feel abandoned, when you're out of options, when the pain is great - and you turn to God alone." - Rick Warren

A desolate, stubborn pain I bear,

Which my tender heart it scars and tears.

I feel so lost and bruised and tired.

Myself is gone, whom I once admired.

I feel what it's like to be illy tossed;

It's an awful, grievous, wretched loss.

I miss the me I used to be,

But somehow God has rid of "me."

My once golden heart is broken, gone.

I cannot--do not--know my song.

I feel so wrong, despaired and dead;

I can't escape my injured head.

Why trauma must I bitter meet?

This suffering I really hate and greet

Each morning with a stifling sob

To face myself: an ugly mob.

I wish I could see what God can see,

That brave, pure soul He knows of me.

Why must I break to renew my life,

Why claim the victory of this strife?

Some days I'd rather go back home,

Than have to muffle another moan.

But then I remember my Savior, brave,

Suffered the pain of every slave.

He suffered all the doubts I hold,

The terror, fright, and sorrow bold.

He bled the blood of every sweat,

That in this mortal life I've wept.

He loves me most to have died for me,

To have suffered all these scars for me.

My Lord, who died on Calvary,

Lived in cause for this, I see!

Because of Him, I have my life,

And because of Him, He knows my strife;

He knows the knots in my deepest core,

For every single one He bore.

So even if I forget my place,

And cannot recognize my dismal face,

And cannot believe the end and start,

And never feel like I have a part.

And always feel never good enough;

And wonder if I'll measure up;

And live my days never knowing when,

Or how and where, and if or then.

And feeling like I'm nothing much

But like desert dust only wind can touch;

And not knowing if I'll ever make it through,

And if my efforts are ever making due.

My Lord is there to hold my hand,

To lift me when I cannot stand,

He's there to wipe my wretched tears,

And cradle me in my roughest years.

He knows my heart, my pain, and breaks.

He knows every moment my melody quakes.

He's here to guide me back to my home,

Where He'll show me the thrown my Father owns.

Christ sees in me what I do not see

And He's given me pain 'cause He trusts in me.

He seals my heart, and loves my dreams,

And wants to share the bigger things.

I love my Savior with all my heart!

So here I stay and do my part.

Here I live and try and all,

And conquer the rise of every fall.

I am a child of Father, yes,

A princess, queen, and daughter best.

I'm hurting, broke, and scarred, and torn,

But my Savior I trust 'cause my life He's borne.

Dear friend, who's hurting, lost, and scared,

I know someday soon we'll be repaired.

Just throw yourself in Jesus' arms,

And keep living life, and embrace its charms.

There is a God who loves you so,

And you're worthy, special, and you will grow!

When your soul is tossed and your heartbeat breaks,

Just know a new, brave soul Christ makes!

God trusts you enough to break you down,

To build you up with a brighter crown.

We're in this together, scarred you see.

The us is gone. But there is He.

(Myself Is Gone, by Makenzie Monson)