I carry a burden of memories with me.
My memories contain milestone, mountaintop moments,
As well as deep-in-the-bottom-of-the-valley shadows.
I carry moments of ecstatic joy balanced by humiliating shame and chaotic strife.
Single and pregnant, working in a bar,
walking everywhere because I had no car.
Gazing into the tiny, perfect face of a newborn child.
My first day sober, relieved and shaky,
I began to carry Jesus into every second of sobriety.
My first year sober, joyful and smiling,
The day I set the last puzzle piece of faith into place.
I began to let Jesus carry me into every second of sobriety.
Born again memories that expand like balloons before bursting
and releasing serenity, faith, and joy to overcome the silent burden I carry.
The deeply buried, dark memories of drunken promiscuity,
and the shame of being repeatedly battered by a lover’s blows.
A shadowed load of shame, embarrassment, and hurt I no longer carry,
because Jesus carried it away,
as his blood flowed down the cross and onto the ground.