I wasn’t planning on posting this little poem until later, but in light of some recent situations, it got me thinking about it. This is straight from my journal, y’all…that’s how you know it’s real and raw. No edits, nothing. Totally authentic.
But lately I’ve been having to think about promises, and the ones people make. I know that I made some promises that I truly intended on keeping, and have kept. I also made promises that I intended on keeping, but after seeing how hazardous it was to myself either mentally, emotionally, spiritually, or all of the above, I couldn’t fully keep the promise the way I thought I could.
At first, I wasn’t okay with it; I felt like a hypocrite and a traitor for not being able to keep up with my promise. But then the Lord really began to speak to me, and show me that I am incapable of keeping some promises; that the weight and toxicity of the promises I made was not worth me trying to put my all into a specific situation, especially if it was causing me to take my focus off of my relationship with Him.
Just because I promise something, it doesn’t mean I have to execute that promise in the specific ways I always imagined it being executed in. My ideas of keeping that promise might be flawed, and maybe the only way I can keep that promise is to pray for someone and keep my distance, or simply text or call that person every once in a while.
Some promises just aren’t capable of being kept. Promising something is pretty heavy in itself, and I think that I personally need to learn to be more aware and cautious of exactly what I promise, and to whom I promise it too.
I’m sorry that I can’t be the person you want me to be all the time for you. The respect I owe myself is way overdue, and I truly don’t think it’s selfish to want to have that back. All this time, I thought your back was against a wall; I thought you were the only one suffering, the only one in such a state that you couldn’t see past your past that’s stood above you, that’s had a grip around your neck for too long.
When all along, it was me. I was the one suffering under my own hand, suffocating myself to make you feel better because I couldn’t stand breaking a promise I told you I’d keep. I’d rather crucify myself than see you have the worst day of your life. I’d rather linger in the darkness as I tried, but failed to give you ray after ray of sunshine.
Some promises are too dangerous to be kept.
I’m sorry I can’t keep mine.
💙 Mishy 🦋