He Loves Me…

photo by mark lorch via PhotoRee


He Loves Me

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.

Through all of our days,

The same phrase,

The same mantra drips;

Flows forth from our lips.

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.

And as the petals are plucked,

One by one the blood starts to drip and to flow,

So slow we hardly know.

Until, day by day, tear by tear,

Through the ripping and tearing,

The wound of our hearts become so raw

That we are left with nothing but pain.

Oozing, Festering,  pain.

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.

With arms stretched out,

Wounded, pleading hearts laid bare,

We claw and we grab for the love that we crave.

A sort of band aid

To patch these holes that we’ve made,

But can our wounded hearts be saved?

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.

Fingers wrapped like a snake

In the guise of a dove.

Squeezing pressure, sucking the life out of the ones that we love.

Until, we’re found all alone,

True character shown.

And there in the darkness and sin,

The mantra rushes in

He loves me, He loves me not. He loves me. He loves. Me. Not.

Ohhhh, but we are resourceful,

We are fighters,

We carry on

Because we are women –

And we are strong.

We don’t need a man to make us weak.

Hearts locked away,

It’s  freedom that we seek.

Cut off from the touch of a friend,

Freedom rushes in.

Numb hearts laid bare, this is the banner  we share:


love me.

And if we are spiritual, heh.

If we are holy, women of God,

We take that heart made of stone;

We cast it at God’s throne.

Having great passion without great contemplation.

Vomiting strong emotions without deep meditation.

Disillusioned and alone we have been blind.

Tossed by the waves, out of our minds.

We have taken this God become man

And turned him into a man named God.

We get down on our knees,

To show that we love the Jesus that we think that we know,

Because we live our lives in service to him.

Having sermons spoon fed to us at our very whim.

And there, at the foot of the cross, we begin our mantra once again.

He loves me. He loves me not. God loves me. God loves me not.

Women, I ask you.

What have we become?

Are we merely a pile of petals trashed on the floor?

What have our stony hearts been created for?

I read an article the other day,

And I have to say,

It made my eyes roll in my head.

Let me tell you what it said:

“There’s a Growing Passion among women for God’s Word.”

This was the news?

That women are beginning to choose

– to think?

But I have to admit.

The idea brought me hope.

That fires has be lit.

That maybe we had been thrown a rope.

Women beginning to think.

Willing to be led.

Filling the air in their head.

Seeing the truth in the ink.

Truth that we were created for more.

Not to want the place of a man,

Women, able to stand.

Not weak and simple,

But able to control this temple.

And when our flesh grabs hold and our emotions  long.

Let us remember the old wounded hearts now strong

Let our eyes fall upon the cross,

To consider this freedom not lost.

True freedom found in the son,

No longer needing to run.

Broken hearts made whole,

Oozing, festering, pain taken for us.



Holy women of God, with

Deep passion based on deep contemplation;

Strong emotion, born through deep meditation.

To read God’s word.

Share God’s word.

Live God’s word.

Strength, not of ourselves.

Wholly surrendered, healed hearts laid bare.

To go back to that cross; look into the eyes of our savior, prince charming,

Raise our arms in the air and proclaim with confidence:

YOU love me. You love me still. God loves me. God loves me STILL.

2 thoughts on “He Loves Me…

  1. LOVE IT!! I wish readers could hear you perform this Spoken Word. You rocked it!!! Everyone who heard it was blessed!!!

    I’ll try to get the audio to you soon!

  2. Pingback: True Women Conference Follow-Up » For His Glory Community Church

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