Last week, I shared how God has been calling me to be faithful with my writing and to use my words to honor Him.
Today, I want to follow through on that obedience by sharing a poem that He placed on my heart. It’s a reflection on what it really means to be obedient to Christ.
Walking in Obedience
Walking with Christ isn’t easy. It’s on you to say yes or no. It’s an everyday choice to choose which path you will follow.
It’s bearing the weight of your cross. Surrendering wants while the Spirit leads. Hearing, accepting, and embracing the call to plant His seeds.
It’s trusting in His will. Though His will may bring you pain. It’s enduring through the suffering for the perseverance you will gain.
It’s letting go without looking back, Refusing to follow society’s way. It’s seeking the Kingdom before all. And deciding to submit and obey.
It’s remembering the blood He shed. To offer forgiveness for our sins. Honoring His sacrifice daily; by listening to the Spirit within.
Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” – Luke 9:23
Our God truly is a healer, and my writing proves that.
I’ve always known that God is a healer, but it wasn’t until I reread some of my older poetry that I realized His healing hands have always been present in my life.
I used to live in my mind. Constantly battling negative thoughts and feeling as if I was losing the battle.
And although I am extremely blessed in life, I have faced storms that I didn’t always know how to navigate.
Years ago, I was not seeking God in the same way I am now. I didn’t rely on Him in the same way that I do now.
And it shows.
This next poem was written years ago, during one of those trying times. The version of myself who wrote this poem would be so happy for and so proud of the woman who writes now.
Most importantly, she would be so grateful for and thank God for His healing power. With Him we won the war!
If you’ve read any of the previous poems I have shared on this blog, I think you’ll understand exactly what I mean.
Inside the Cell
This isn’t prison Prisoners know why they’re there – And when they’ll leave This? This is something else. This cell has no escape. No true reason for existing. And yet it’s so very real.
The walls of the cell whisper your failures in your ear, constantly. Leaving you awake to watch the ceiling lower itself until you’re forced to use every ounce of strength to keep it from crushing you. The pressure. Eventually, the ceiling rises
But suddenly, the air grows thin You grip your chest as you struggle to breathe But, oxygen soon returns.
Before you have the chance to relax You begin sinking The ground beneath you; quicksand. You realize; there will always be something to fight
With no idea as to why you’re stuck in this cycle panic strikes
And all hope is gone.
The ground returns to normal. But the panic remains. Sometimes, it consumes And even though the threats are gone And all seems well again The fear, the tears, the pain all remain
You bury your emotions, Plant a smile And wait for your next battle
This is my anxiety. This cell is my mind I am at war with myself And I’m fighting every day.
“But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds, declares the Lord.” Jeremiah 30:17
Through it all, God has been faithful, and His presence never left. It’s an incredible feeling to be known and loved by the One who chose me first. I tried to capture that feeling with this poem.
To Be Chosen By You.
It’s overwhelming, to say the least
To never have to question it For I’m certain Your love is true.
To know Your presence will remain No matter what I’m going through.
I submerge myself in living water And am made clean in Your view.
And learn that after years of searching My identity is found in You.
To know that giving You my heart Is all I ever had to do.
To stop trying to fill a void And finally be made new.
My circumstances haven’t changed, but this week hasn’t felt so heavy. And for that— I’m thankful.
The flames are still present, but faith does not burn. It refines.
I wrote this poem on a day I realized I could no longer bear the weight myself. I’m sharing it now, during a moment of peace, knowing I never had to.
Weighted to Wait
At first, I carried it in my hands, then my shoulders joined the fight. Now the weight rests on my chest, and I search for strength each night.
Down on my knees in prayer, begging for strength to get through. Drowning in guilt at how heavy it feels— even while trusting in You.
Having faith is my reality. Yet this ache is just as real. Are You displeased with my sadness? Am I not allowed to feel?
Tell me, are You disappointed— in every tear that I cry? I wonder if I’m strong enough, but I never question why.
For I recognize Your greatness within every breath I take. This battle is preparation— My suffering, no mistake.
Satan’s working overtime, trying to weigh me down with shame. But my tears are being collected, so still, I’ll exalt Your name.
I’ll wield the sword of the Spirit to endure this pressing weight. I hand this battle over to You. As I sit, be still, and wait.
“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, To the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.” – Lamentations 3:25-26
As this storm rages, I anchor my trust in Him. I wait patiently and rest knowing that He is the Prince of Peace.
As He Did for Me
He continued to call out my name His voice drowned out by my anxiety. He made His presence known He watched ever so patiently. As I found myself lost in thoughts He shone His light so that I could see. And while I am in this storm I’ll wait for Him as He waited for me. For I know just who He is And so still, I shall be. Filled with unwavering faith, I trust in Him completely. That faith is more than enough— It is truly what set me free. My God is bigger than it all He is the path to peace within me.
“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord!” – Psalm 27:14
A poetic reflection on frozen words awaiting divine guidance.
When the Pen Stilled
Watch as it happens. The hand glides over the paper Pen in hand Like a bird in effortless flight
Ink soaks deep into the page transferring emotions with every stroke And with every stroke, The writer escapes– away from the noise of the world Into a truth of their own making
The page flips The words continue to flow Onto this sacred space
But suddenly– The pen stops.
Not because there is nothing left to say, But because the soul is listening– Searching for where God wants to speak next.
For years, I thought I had simply lost my love for writing—but the truth is, I stopped because my heart was shattered, and my voice was stolen.
I remember being introduced to poetry in elementary school. It was in the 4th grade when I started attempting to write my own. We had a creative writing assignment, and I wrote a short book of poems. My teacher, Mrs. Parker, entered it into the district’s creative writing contest for young writers. I won 2nd place. That was the beginning.
Creative writing became a way of life for me. In a world I didn’t feel like I fit into, the page never made me question if I belonged.
As I got older, if it wasn’t on paper, the notes in my phone became a safe haven for my writings. I always wanted to be a writer. And I had plans for those notes. The problem? I was too afraid of opinions to share my writings with anyone.
Fast forward to junior year of college, and I finally felt safe enough to share my writing—with someone I trusted. That backfired.
He ended up deleting every single note in my phone–every poem, every story. Years of writing, gone. This was the first time I truly experienced heartbreak and betrayal. My emotions haven’t felt safe since. I stopped writing altogether after that violation. My safe space was gone.
Over the years, I would write occasionally, usually when life got hard. It felt so good every time I did. I’d reread any old work I had on my laptop endlessly. Promising myself I’d write again—but I never did.
After years of running from it, I began to miss it. Truly miss it. As life grew hard, I longed for my outlet, but I also began to fear that it had been so long that I wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. That fear deepened as I studied the book of Matthew and read The Parable of the Talents in Matthew Chapter 25, 14-30.
Then, God introduced me to a writer. We quickly became friends and her passion for her craft inspired me. One day, I told her what happened—how my ex deleted my notes. She put it into a context I never thought about before. His deleting those notes was spiritual warfare, and when I stopped writing, I gave power to the enemy. I sat with that statement for a while.
I realized the enemy hadn’t just deleted my notes—he had stolen my voice.
The next time I saw her, she gifted me with a notebook. On the first page, she wrote:
“The Lord has given you a gift. When you’re ready, in His perfect time, use it again. Create words only you and God can.”
All of this happened just as I began feeling the need to grow in my faith and share the Good News of God. However, I don’t do well with social interactions in general, let alone speaking about my beliefs. Just the thought of vocalizing them left me frozen.
Meanwhile, God began shifting everything in my life. Within weeks, the life I knew, the one I had finally grown comfortable with, was stripped away.
I was isolated, facing the most stressful season of my life. All I had left was Him. Yet, amid my pain, I still felt peace.
I was overcome by the desire to share the impact that choosing to walk with God has. Yet, I knew that vocally, I just wasn’t sure how.
I prayed about it. The next day, I opened my bag and saw the gifted notebook I had yet to use. I didn’t even remember packing it, but there it was.
That moment, I realized maybe I couldn’t vocalize God’s message and the peace His love provides. However, I could write about it.
The words have been flowing ever since, and for the first time, sharing them became necessary.
The enemy may have tried to steal the gift God gave me, but I’m writing again–not for validation, but for His glory.
Yes, I feel called to share my writings with others. However, I do so with much hesitation. For the most part, since I was small, my poetry has always been for me. But what’s a poetry blog without poetry, right?
So first up, a poem that reflects both my need to write and my need for Him.
Sacred Space
Ink sinks slowly into the page as steady words begin to flow. This is where I meet with God The only truth I need to know
Each line a whispered prayer. Each tear, a silent plea This page becomes my altar, Where His peace washes over me.
💜@anchoredpoetrybybre💜
Over the years, a page has been the safest space for my emotions to land. Whether I’m writing about love and heartbreak, family, my battle with anxiety, or my love for God, I have always put it all onto the page.
As I walk with God and deepen my relationship with Him, I find that when I write, I can be the most vulnerable version of myself – and truthfully, vulnerability has never been my strong suit.
So, this is the beginning of me letting you all into my Bre-ality. 😉
The page will forever be my sacred space. What’s yours? Where do you feel safest to be your truest self?
“Trust in Him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge.” – Psalm 62:8
Today is Resurrection Sunday – the day that Jesus rose after sacrificing His life for all of us. Today felt like the perfect day to begin this blog.
In the past, I’ve been afraid to share the gifts He’s given me. At times, I stopped using my gift altogether. But today is a reminder of Christ’s power and authority. His resurrection is not just a moment in history – it’s a symbol of new beginnings and the promise of a transformed life in Christ.
Writing poetry has always been the safest outlet for my emotions. And now, as I go through the toughest season of my life yet, I feel God calling me back to it. This blog will showcase both old and new poetry – words that reflect my healing journey and the way life can be transformed through Him.
As I continue to seek God, I am committed to living in my purpose and sharing my gift without fear. I hope that He uses my words to remind you that you are not alone – and to reveal His power and His love to you.
Welcome to my new beginning. I’m so excited to take this journey with Him – and with whoever feels led to join us.
Guided Words 