When You Feel Unlovely

Alone in the dark
I bend over a bucket,
let all this pain and nausea
empty me right out

I'm wrecked and undone,
this breath coming
ragged and shallow,
me just grasping about
for something to hold on to--
someone to hold on to me

I whisper His name,
this the only word I can utter
and Him the only
One Who says "I AM"
in sickness and in health--

Him the only One
Who calls me Beloved
when I'm this
shaking mess
on the bedroom floor
and He's
the loveliest One of all

Maybe Love's
unveiling moment
comes right here
in the dead of night,
His hand on my back
and me just
breathing in and out,
us waiting together
for morning

This feels a bit rough and unfinished, but I'm trying to write even when it's hard.  Thank you for grace.  I'm recovering slowly from a bout with the flu this week and pondering the call to live as His Beloved with the community over at FaithBarista.com.  Join us?


  1. I prayed for you as I read this. Hope all is well. You are loved.

    1. @Nikole Hahn: Thank you so much for praying. It's been a bit of a slow recovery but I'm feeling much, much better with each passing day. Thank you for stopping over and leaving kind words here.

  2. Oh, I'm feeling your pain. Can't say it's comfortable! But your words are so real. Praying you are recovering from the flu and all of life's ills. Part of being beloved is the gift of his healing, even if only in pieces at times.

    1. @Lisa notes...: "and all of life's ills." Isn't that the truth? I think that's why I wanted to write this poem so much--to capture the very real and present agony of a physical sickness and let it speak beyond that, into the realm of "all of life's ills." It encourages me greatly that you found that bit of truth tucked in here, even in my rough-edged efforts to write this week. Thank you. Just--thank you.

  3. So sorry you've been ill! May the Lord grant rest and peace as you recover (and no lingering ill effects). I'm playing catch-up with commenting on your last few posts. Thank you for grace.

    Too bad there's no way to send virtual chicken soup and ginger ale. I pray your local family and friends are supplying those practical needs. Peace of Christ to you, Courtney.

    1. @tinuviel: Ah, yes! Virtual chicken soup and ginger ale--I can taste it right now :o). My parents have taken good care of me and thankfully they had a change of plans so they were not out of town with me left behind to house-sit this week. And hopefully I'll be by your blog later today to catch up there as well--grace going both ways between us, as always. The best kind of friendship. Thank you for prayers and love across the miles, Dear One.

  4. So sorry you've been ill, but what beautiful poetry you've penned!

    1. @Amy Nabors: Thank you for such kind words! It's true that sometimes the best poems come out of the hardest days. Beauty from the ashes. And being so desperately sick reminds me of how glorious it is to *not* be sick. Grace even in this and a reminder to be grateful in all things.

  5. Hi Courtney:) I hope you're well now! I especially like the last stanza you wrote~such peace there.

    1. @Amy: Hi, New Friend! Yes, I am (I think) completely recovered now, though my appetite's still wandering around lost somewhere. I'm sure it will find it's way back to me eventually :). Thank you for pointing out the peace in the last stanza--I was unsure if the ending felt peaceful or simply unfinished, though of course I was intending the former. I'm thinking of trying to find a way to record my poems as voicefiles, as there is always a bit of the art and rhythm lost in the translation to written form. We shall see! Thanks for stopping by...

  6. "His hand on my back... breathing in and out" Wow. Courtney. Writing unfinished is not for the weak. You, my friend, are courageous and STRONG. I hear His voice finished in you -- thank you for allowing me into this moment alongside you. Because that place of being unfinished is where I stand on this journey. So special you shared this in our faith jam! Thank you! I hope you are feeling better.

    1. @Bonnie Gray: Oh, what grace to see your words here in my corner of the world, Bonnie! "Writing unfinished is not for the weak." Yes. YES. You are breathing courage right into me and filling my heart with the longing to press on, to keep trying to write even when my voice seems shaky and quiet. Thank you, again, for writing broken. Your story is strengthening me in my own.


Post a Comment