Not too long ago, I battled something many people face or have faced: depression and anxiety. During those many years, I experienced damage to my mind and body. While in many ways my depression drove me closer to my faith, it also challenged me well beyond my ability to cope, draining me of my strength and fortitude; in fact, so much so, that I began experiencing panic attacks. Because I was a mom to young children and "shut-in" my home, I did not have any external support. With the lack of medical insurance, I was left to deal with my health on my own. While in my darkest hours, I composed poetry that would later find its place in the healing of others. Here I share two of my published works. It is my prayer that perhaps someone will gain courage to press forward and to resolve to not give up.
So Here I Stand! © Kimberly Styn Lloyd
So it is I, a warrior wounded deeply in battle.
My sword lay at my side, my arm too weak to wield it.
Where is the evidence that I engaged in battle?
The hilt is bloodied from my wound, the blade dry.
Fool! Was not my back turned when the enemy sprang?
So here I stand, to where do I turn? Too weak to advance.
Stand firm! But from where will my help come?
The wind blows, lifting my long locks into the air,
A tangled mess, a testimony to the status I now acquire.
Feel the power in the wind? "Attain it, it is yours to take!"
So here I stand, valiant for I am still erect! Advance!
My legs, they have not been wounded. He will come again.
I am ready, for the wind has given to me and I took it!
You know not where it goes for you cannot see it,
But I have attained it! May its mystery afflict!
So there I stood, not really alone, not really weak,
But unprepared on the field of conflict. I am ready now.
Turn not your back to me for your defeat is upon you!
I will pursue you, you will not stand! Are you swift, swift as wind?
Alas, my sword is now drawn, my strong arm will conquer!
Watch © Kimberly Styn Lloyd
Struck, again. The wounds, so many, some so deep.
I am down upon one knee, my body braced by my good arm.
When will it end? My heart beats rapidly within my chest, my mind is awhirl.
I can’t get up. Yet I must! He cannot find me here so weak and alone.
“Arise! Again, child, arise!” I hear the voice penetrating my being.
How many times have I stood to face him again and again?
The pain is too great. No! I cannot, I will not! My mind reels.
“Arise! My strength, it is sufficient for you. Take it. It is yours,” He whispers.
Why? I scream again…free me! Free me from this battle, I pray.
“Arise, child, and remember your oath. Remember your promise!”
My anger surges, my legs fuel with adrenaline. I rise up; I raise my bloodied arm.
My oath? My promise? Have I not kept my word? Blood trickles and drips to the ground.
“I will give you peace.” The wind wraps around my shaking form.
It is warmth. Peace envelops me. My anger subsides, the wounds close.
Scars, so many of them. So many. My being is hardened. Yet I know what is right.
My oath. I will keep it. But I will watch. I will wait. Next time I will defeat.
Yes, I will watch…