De-Guise.

I stare and I think, and I think and I stare some more. And yet, it's still all just white space that floods my eyes. There is no slight tremour, no flicker of movement. There is no spectacular spark of beauty, no stroke of vibrance. It is all just plainness, and this time, I fear it is no longer temporary.

My mind has become the body of a manikin, undressed by fancy sentiment, stripped of the trends of eloquence and materialism. I am bare, and I am naked, and now I'm just too afraid and too ashamed to walk on. As it is, I am a mere figure, aren't I? So why can I not feel the tips of your fingers pressing against me as you twist and turn my joints, exercise my limbs and stretch my posture to continue your work? Your work that chisels, chips, and slits deeper into my woody flesh, leaving me fragile, vulnerable, and weak.

... But I quickly forget. I am far too drawn by, and helplessly drowned in, the love pouring from your eyes when my head is tilted your way. The twinkle is right there in your eyes, and I know that what you have in mind for me is far more beautiful than what I could ever dress myself in.

Yet, sometimes, you turn my head away. Sometimes, you don't let me even catch a glimpse of you. I am left, terrified, with only my faith in you to keep me from jumping right out of my skin and deep into another's dresser. I strain to see, but I cannot. My neck is so stiffened for your purposes that all I've left to do is strain to hear that familiar clink, clink, clink! as you chip away at all my rougher edges.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid because sometimes, I can't see you. I can't hear you. I can't feel you. I stare, and there is nothing, and I find that I am left with nothing - nothing but my wavering faith and mere memories of your voice. Your voice that says: I love you, I will never leave you or forsake you, I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

You are the only reason I still stand here, trembling and terrified, completely broken and exposed. Yet I stand unashamed, because I know that only your love can bring me to my knees.

PTL, Sarah.