One day, you’ll pass through a place, a least-suspecting place. And it’ll occur to you that you’ve lost every piece of you.

You, beautiful you. You who were created with a design in mind. You who were created to breathe, be and bask in beauty. You who were created to live full, real and true. You whose soul was made for more. You, dear you, you lost yourself.

Sit with that.

You lost yourself.

Somewhere along the way, someday became the way. Circumstance turned to circumstance upon circumstance. Come what may became your day, after day, after day.

Come what may.

Come what may.

Come what may.

But come what may didn’t serve you well, did it? Because here you are. Barren. Hollowed out. Nothing but a body walking, talking with nothing inside but come what may. That emptiness, how does it feel? Sit with it, my friend. How does it feel? Do you feel anything anymore?

You’ve done your duty, sacrificed for the greater good, tended and nurtured everything and everyone, lived and loved to the best of your ability. But the question begs to be asked. If you don’t tend to yourself, won’t your soul wither under the weight of coulds, shoulds and should haves? And the Bible says love your neighbor as yourself, but what if you haven’t been loving yourself?

So today I’m asking…

What do you need?

What is it that you need?

Let’s make space for that, for what you NEED.

Take care, my friend.

Take hold.

Take hold of YOU, the YOU that’s more than coulds, shoulds and should haves. The YOU that’s created specially, uniquely, the YOU you know is inside. Take hold of her. Be tender and gentle towards her, the woman who’s still standing after ALL this, ALL that, all the world’s weight upon her shoulders.

Let’s go, now. Let’s search the ruins, explore this least-suspecting place. Let’s gather remnants of you, fill the spaces hollowed by come what may. It’s time for you, my friend. It’s time to harvest the remnants, the bits and pieces, the fabric of you.

Look.

Stand and look.

See what you need to see.

Where are you? Do you know where you are anymore?

Where have you been? Where, oh where, have you been?

It’s okay to just stand there and take it in. It’s okay to acknowledge where you are and where you’ve been. Nobody will give you that permission but you. Take it in. Acknowledge it. Claim it. Because you are fierce and strong, and only YOU and God know what YOU know. Only YOU and God know where you’ve been, where you are, where you’re going, indeed. Stand there, my friend. Stand where you need to stand. Stand. There you are. Here you are. Here.

Let’s gather remnants now.

Look over there. Look at the mess. Right there on the table. Everyone got up and left. And there you are with the mess. Just look at it. Look at the way you’ve treated yourself, as if you don’t matter, as if your sole existence is to to take care of everyone’s mess. It’s good to take care of messes, my friend. It’s our call to help others in need. But it’s not our responsibility to manage every mess we encounter. It’s time to start looking at the messes and ask important questions. Is this my mess? Did they leave this mess because they know I’ll clean it up? Am I just good for messes, or am I more than messes? Am I needed in this mess? Should I clean it? Should I leave it? Or would everyone be better served if everyone took part in the cleaning? The questions are endless, my friend. Just stand there. Look at the mess. Look at the pain. Pick up your part. Perhaps it’s time to leave the rest, that bit of a mess, right there on the table. Then remember your remnants, remnants of you left tableside.

Let’s head over here, to the YOU who once was. Look. Just look. This is who you used to be. YOU before come what may. THIS is the YOU you loved, the YOU you embraced, the YOU you saw as beautiful. This is the YOU who had vision, clear vision. This is the place you came back to, the place you found YOU, every time. Is she gone? I don’t think so, my friend. She’s still there, waiting quietly. Come in. Be you. Become you again. Pick up the remnants, put on the garments. Feel beautifully YOU again.

What about there, the place you meandered in and back out as if it didn’t bother you a bit? You’re not sure you belong there, are you? You love that place. It feels like home, a warm and familiar place to rest. But you’re just not sure. Is this home? Or is this a show? Pick up a remnant, my friend. Pick up the one that feels right. If this is your home, let this be your home. If this is your place, your space, your place to BE, then BE. So look around. Pick up that remnant. See what’s yours. Take it. Stay a little longer. Stroll and see what fits. Feel the textures. Linger. Look. Pick things up, put them down if they don’t work. But gather the remnants of you, my friend. Don’t leave without a few. It’s YOU who will lose if you don’t take remnants of YOU where you find them. It’s OTHERS who will suffer if YOU’RE not fully YOU.

This remnant-collecting journey won’t be complete unless we take a take a stroll through baggage, the baggage of whether you deserve all these remnants or not. Do you deserve those remnants, those pieces unique to YOU and only YOU? Do you deserve something FOR you? Do you deserve that thing GOD wants for you? Do you deserve the life God planned for you? Touch the bags. Feel the remnants. Stand there in the beauty. Now I know you hate the word “deserve.” It’s not a good word at all, friend. I know. Most of the time you’re not sure you “deserve” anything at all. But there’s not a word that fits better. Bare with me, dear one. Here’s what I’m saying, the best way I can say it. You have been gifted with grace, the amazing grace of life. Accept the gift. Live the life God’s given you. Just pick it up, my friend. PICK. IT. UP. Pick up the most beautiful remnant you can find. It’s not too expensive for Jesus. He already paid the price. He already said you don’t have to be rich. You don’t have to be the wealthiest woman in the block. In fact, you can’t afford that remnant. So take it. You deserve it, He says. Or maybe not at all. But grace is my gift. To you. Take all the beautiful remnants you can. Find them where you may. Gather them and store them, for the days are long and your future is certain.

We’re walking now, closer and closer to you, the YOU you’d lost, the YOU who’d been emptied, the YOU you’d left behind. Tell me, dear friend. Tell me. Have you gathered a few remnants? Remnants needed? Remnants necessary? Remnants new? Remnants of you?

Bring them. We’re almost here. You’ll need those remnants for the journey. We need you. ALL of you. Let it be said. We. need. you.

Back to the center now. Here we are. You have some remnants, I know you do. Maybe just a few.

Stand there. Still. Just stand and listen.

He’s playing now. Do you hear it? He’s playing your song. You can see it, the way He’s looking at you, the way He’s making eye contact with you, the way He’s following your every move when the world’s pulling at your feet, distracting you, telling you it’s time to go, it’s time to be done with this remnant-finding nonsense.

Don’t be done, my friend. Don’t leave. Stand still despite the pull. You’ve come this far. Don’t stop now. Keep the remnants tucked in your pockets. Keep the remnants stuffed up your sleeves. He’s still watching you. The pain is growing, the pain is welling inside. You’re not done growing. You’re not done collecting remnants. Look. SEE. He’s STILL playing your song. He sees you’re about to burst into tears. He sees those remnants hanging from your pockets, those remnants slipping from your sleeves. He plays. He just plays. He keeps on playing and playing. For you, my love. For you. Keep listening. Keep SEEING Him SEE you. He is playing your song.

You want to run. You want to hide. You don’t want anyone to see the you that’s truly you. “Forget it,” you say to yourself. “This remnant collecting adventure was the stupidest, lamest adventure ever. I don’t need these remnants. The pain is calling, pulling, never-ending. I just need to run. Go. Get out of this place. These remnants? Whatever. They were just pieces of fabric, anyway. Who needs these pieces of me but me, anyway?”

No, He calls.

Stop running.

Listen.

Come closer.

I see you. I see you across the way.

Stand with your remnants.

Let every fiber of your being, every fiber of those remnants STAND.

Hear the notes.

Listen to your song.

Stand strong when the world is pulling.

Look at my smile. I’m looking at you.

I love you.

Remnants of you.