🍇➡️🍷✝️✨📓
Lord,
this is the place I don’t dress up,
the space where my tears pray
before my mouth ever finds the words.
I wanted love that felt safe,
not loud promises or borrowed affection,
but hands that stayed,
a heart that chose me
the way You choose me every morning.
I have been strong for so long
that I forgot how to rest.
I carried homes inside my chest,
held everyone together
while quietly coming undone.
I admit it —
I stayed longer than You told me to.
I tried to make wine without the pressing,
peace without obedience,
love without alignment.
But You, God,
You did not leave me in the crushing.
Every tear became a seed.
Every ending, a pruning.
Every “let go,”
a holy instruction I resisted
until my hands were tired
and my heart finally listened.
I am learning
that obedience is not punishment —
it is protection.
That boundaries are not rejection —
they are love in its purest form.
I am learning
that I don’t need to chase what is meant to find me,
or beg for what You already promised.
So here I am,
still being poured,
still becoming,
still trusting that what You are making
will be worth the pressure.
If this is the wine,
let it be strong.
If this is the waiting,
let it be holy.
If this is the becoming,
let it be Yours.
