(Inspired by Psalm 23, Isaiah 43, and Romans 8)
I walked through fire with no one beside me,
The smoke of betrayal still thick in my lungs.
I cried out from shadows too heavy for morning,
Where the voice of my past sang war songs unsung.
Chains once disguised as affection and duty
Wrapped tight ‘round a soul born to fly.
I bent under burdens I wasn’t meant carrying—
And asked God, “How long must I try?”
But the Lord, He was near in the silence,
A whisper that broke through the rage.
Not with thunder or lightning or earthquakes,
But with love that unlocked every cage.
He led me through rivers that should’ve drowned me,
And stood in the flames at my side.
He saw every scar I tried hiding—
Each tear, each truth I denied.
My past didn’t die—it was buried
In the tomb where my Savior once lay.
And I rose with Him, bruised but breathing,
With grace as my song every day.
Now peace isn’t quiet—it’s power.
It’s the strength to say “No” and to rest.
To guard what God gave me so gently,
To silence the chaos and bless.
I fight for this peace like a soldier.
My home, my mind, my soul—my land.
And the armor I wear is His promise:
That He holds my whole life in His hand.
No weapon formed has destroyed me.
No lie has erased who I am.
I am more than my battles and burdens—
I am loved, I am chosen, I stand.
So I dwell in the house of His presence,
Where fear has no voice, no control.
And I drink from the cup of His stillness,
Letting joy overflow in my soul.
He restores what the locusts have stolen.
He redeems what the devil once used.
I am whole, I am held, I am healing—
By the peace of a God who won’t lose.
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