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“The Last Dance”

Yesterday, I laid my sorrow down—

the final tear surrendered
to a story that was never
ordained to live within me.


For when God calls you forward,
the echoes of the familiar grow faint,
promises once broken lose their sting,
and even the fiercest storms
bow into stillness.


I will not circle the same wilderness,
nor trace my wounds like sacred maps,
nor tear my soul apart
just to keep another warm.


Yesterday, the chains remembered
they were never part of me.


Strongholds crumbled at His whisper,
and peace—holy, unshaken peace—returned.


Not everything is meant to smolder.
Some endings arrive like lightning—
sudden, sacred, and sure—
to awaken,
to warn,
to call you home to truth.


And last night…
in the quiet language of dreams,
I danced with my father.


There was no weight, 

no sorrow—
only light.


And he spoke, as heaven does,
with finality and grace:

It is finished.
All is well.
Go forth—
and walk in freedom.


When morning found me,
my tears had changed their meaning—
no longer grief,
but holy release.


For the chains,
the sin,
the suffering—
they were not in vain.


They were the fire
that did not consume me,
but refined me.


They did not break me—
they brought me back.


And now I rise—
not as who I was,
but as who I was called to be.


No looking back.
No returning to ruins.
No resurrecting what God has buried.


I walk forward—sealed, restored, unbound—
with heaven’s verdict etched into my spirit:


I am free.
I am whole.
And I will not return 

to the arms of Sin.


Obedience NEVER holds 

space for the weight of sin.


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