Invisible Eyelashes

I am the girl with invisible eyelashes
Who cries at night,
In closets and in bathrooms,
Anywhere people won't see her.

I am the girl who obsesses,
Starves,
Longs to be beautiful,
But feels utterly worthless and spent.

I am the girl with invisible eyelashes,
Invisible struggles,
Invisibly crippled by an invincible front crafted carefully from stone and deceit.
And yes, I believe,
Deep within my confused heart,
But my head often wanders and my heart runs astray.
.
I am the girl with a pockmarked face,
Who hides skillfully behind tan-colored minerals and thick bangs,
Big glasses and quiet words,
Who fiercely fears being vulnerable and known.

I am the girl with a dark and deranged mind,
Who sometimes wonders what it would feel like to ram her car into a wall,
End it all,
Because perhaps then she would find peace and rest from all this despair.

I am the girl who eats peanut butter from a spoon and runs everywhere she goes,
Running late and running wild,
Going fast and going crazy.

I am the girl who memorizes license plate numbers,
Whose mind obsesses over those six or seven numbers-
542 PSF
BZ9 L753
221 DJM-
Reciting them over and over in her crazed head for who knows why.

I am the girl with invisible eyelashes,
Invisible feelings,
Who desperately tries not to offend or upset,
But ends up distanced and lonely.

I am the girl whose heart beats hard and fast for love,
Yet who fears the potential of her flesh's wayward ways
Because she has already kissed too long and too hard too soon.

I am the girl who weeps for love,
Weeps for the ones she loves,
The ones who suffer,
Who cry desperately to a God who sometimes seems more distant than the stars.

I am the girl who is more confused than confused can be,
Who questions, "Who am I?" and "Why am I here?" and "Who will I become?"
In this world of fast lanes and distortions.

I am the girl who rests in the Truth,
But sometimes plays Peter and denies,
Usually more than three times,
But then that rooster crows and she awakens,
With tears of repentance in her eyes and the Father's arms wrapped tightly around her.

I am the girl who was wallowing in her own blood,
But heard the voice that cried "Live",
Who has been chosen, redeemed, and accepted,
Whose quirks, sins, and talents have been offered up to the Great Refiner
Who will buff and burn and burn and buff so her heart looks more and more like Jesus.

I am the girl with invisible eyelashes.

Sister

When I was born, I must have had torches for hands
Because anytime I walk too close to someone
It seems like I do a lot of burning
And very little embracing.

But with you, it has always been different;
You were never scared of my fires.
You must have been born with flame-resistant skin.

I remember when we first met:
I was boring;
You were crazy.
I wore white capris with dress shirts and rarely spoke.
You wore thrift-store-T-shirts and said the word "Fag".

I thought you needed my help, that you needed saving.

Who knew you would be the one to help save me?

A casual acquaintanceship:
Your friends were my friends
So we went bowling and played pretend at recess.

I was afraid of interaction with people;
You thrived on it.

Fast friends,
With our three brothers and crazy imaginations.
P.E. (The horror!  The horror!) became our domain.
The kids who cursed, the kids who cast spells, the kids whose parents left them home alone
Became our companions, as we feebly tried to minister.

Then you called me from vacation.

"I'm moving."

Wait...
What???
Moving???

Those words stung like a knife from behind:
Cold,
Unexpected,
Life-shattering.

Yet,
With our impending separation, we grew only closer.
Up and down Mulberry Street we walked,
Living almost inseparable lives.

Like sisters.

The day you left
I cried,
For you,
For me,
To the God who seemed so far away,
So distant from all that was happening.

Years I spent in anger, in anguish,
Wondering when the good was to come
As I held to that Romans 8:28 promise.

Then came last summer.

My torches were ablaze,
And your flame-resistant skin let down its protection.

I know I hurt you.

I know I should have listened to you,
Should have loved you better,
Should have been less sensitive,
Less selfish,
Less stupid.

I'm sorry.

But even though you carry those burns,
I cling to the hope that the Great Healer will have His way in both our lives,
That He will extinguish my flames of fear and crush my walls of insecurity
And will heal your hurt from all I knowingly did wrong.

I love you like crazy,
My sister that I never had.
You have a piece of my heart,
All rough and red and broken.
And though we came from different wombs,
It is like we are somehow connected
By some familial force beyond comprehension.

Thank you for all you have been.

I am so thrilled to see where the Lord leads you,
As you wildly follow His wonderful plan.
Whether it leads to Africa or babies or simplicity,
I know you will serve the Kingdom with all your heart.


For my dear friend and sister, Alison Carpenter.