Life was…





It was crooked in every aspect of the word.

Warped, deformed, distorted, contorted, wry. Every event came with a curve of fear. Every day disfigured by an enemy. Every night gnarled by regret and pain. Every moment held hostage by a mask – a facade of the torture underneath.

…and in the midst, there was a desire to level what was ajar. The chains pulling life out of balance were invisible. Trying to fight an invisible enemy was in possible.

A shift came to the surface. A shift in geographical location






living conditions



A new start. No hiding. Kiss the facade goodbye. Embrace the pain of change.

A time of tears from pain and laughter. A year of remaking a foundation. A year of forgiveness and freedom.

As you walk through the door the stairs directly ahead are uneven, if there was much more of a tilt, they could be considered for a fair fun house. The counters are also slanted. As oil pours into a frying pan it all slides to the back – obviously the stove also is not on level ground. After the uneven stove burns food, soaking the pan is only so beneficial – half the pan will receive the other half of the pans water – those darn slanted counters. At least half the pan will be clean. The laundry cupboard door looks like a door….plus a triangle added to the top. In other words, if the door were actually cut level on the top, a triangle like shape would be removed. The door was cut uneven to accommodate the door frame that is also uneven. The broom sits inside the cupboard and as it brushes back and forth the bristles piece falls off the handle. After the broken broom completes the sweeping. A broken mop bucket with no handle comes out of the cupboard. A detachable sink head is pulled from the sink and extended to the bucket to fill it. However, the sink nozzle has a broken button on top filled with corrosion and 20 years of food crumbs, encouraged? The mopped floor dries unevenly, after all, the floor has divots creating pools of water throughout the room. However, no alarm should be raised, it is unnoticeable because 4 of the 5 lightbulbs in the room are burnt out. The crooked stairs are stapled incorrectly making the incline painful. The toilet seat is only screwed on with one screw. If ground is gained past the toilet it will lead to a shower head hanging by a thread.

The staircase lights are also burnt out…

point received? Everything is out of balance. Even the street is angled oddly both vertically and horizontally.

It is in the midst of a crooked geographical designation I discovered my spiritual and emotional destination didn’t have to be crooked.

This place. Was my home. This place was where I lived life. Where God whispered reminders. Where tears were shed. Where pain was felt. Where early mornings and late nights were a battle. Where prayers were declared. Where songs were sung. Where growth happened. Where dreams were breathed.

This crooked house was a place I heard the whisper daily.

Crooked counter?

“That was your life”

Broom falls apart?

“That was your life”

was…your life

but is not my life…

Crooked, ajar, warped, contorted…out of balance was a journey not a destination.

Girls, boys, moms, dads, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, friends, young and old. Whoever you are and wherever you are do not let your crooked journey become a crooked destination. Journey through the stagnant. Fight through the unbalanced, and make your destination a solid foundation.

You’ve. Got. This.


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