It’s Time to Live AGAIN
I knew if I attempted to steal another glance,
It would be impossible to resist her.
If I lingered on her past glory.
I’d miss the train to my next journey.
So I told her I was setting her free,
And when I finally switched on the lights,
Her pitiful reflection no longer haunted me.
And my identity that was once cast,
Shoved in the harsh wind,
It returned to me.
There comes a point in every individual’s journey where we come to an epiphany. It is one of the most critical points of destiny. We find ourselves (if you haven’t already) at the end of ourselves. You know something has to change. You feel the tension even as you breathe, sense the restriction down to your bones, and the slight muddle in your thoughts. You’re not crazy, you’re just due for a new season. However, your greatest opponent (yourself) is the most challenging stronghold to overcome.
For five years, I underwent a metamorphosis. I waited, hoped, trusted, believed, all the while clinging to a past version of myself that wanted me dead. We love romanticizing our past, kissing our wounds, and comforting our sorrows. Double-minded questions of If I? and What if? Swirls in our head like a roaring tornado. While it is in our best interest to dissect the past, if we aren’t cautious, we risk becoming remorseful and dismissive of our present and future glory in Christ. In the crossfire of tension, refinement begins, hope crumbles, dreams die, and passion ceases. Yet it is in the same crossfire that new life is formed. There is no if, but a matter of when. You will give birth in transition, whether you desire to or not. Still, the choice is always up to the individual whether they will give birth to the new thing God is doing or if they will birth their dopplenger (seen as an exact, but usually invisible, replica of that individual) and in return live the next decade in the same cycles of defeat. Some things must die for good, forever, so the things that are meant to live do.
I wrestled these past five years like Jacob did in the Bible. In the tug of war between who I knew myself to be and who God destined me to become. It was always easy to win the fight, but the war was an entirely different story. Every time I reached the battlefront, there she was—the 23-year-old version of myself, pleading with me to rescue her, though she stood on the opposite side. I wanted to live each time, but I worried for her, and for five years, we met in this crossfire, as I self-destructed for her sake, for her safety. My hesitation to “bury her” for good cost me access to my promised land. What do you do when the enemy lives on the inside of you? When you know you need to move on, but you still idolize what is dead?
In July, I listened to a sermon that broke me loose. Chris Duruso preached, “One of Us Must Die?” The Holy Spirit afflicted the entire word with glory. Whatever remnants were left of her, I diminished as I realized completing my manuscript, Dear 23, was a mandate from heaven. It’s been three months, and I’m morphing into the new. I’m learning to live again (dead to her, alive in Christ), to enjoy the beauty of his direction, the slow pace of life, the joy of rest, the hope of goodness in His nature, and the miraculous hidden in the mundane. The fear of starting over attempted to shame me, but the word of God fortified me. “I assure you and most solemnly say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone [just one grain, never more]. But if it dies, it produces much grain and yields a harvest. The one who loves his life [eventually] loses it [through death], but the one who hates his life in this world [and is concerned with pleasing God] will keep it for life eternal. If anyone serves Me, he must [continue to faithfully] follow Me [without hesitation, holding steadfastly to Me, conforming to My example in living and, if need be, suffering or perhaps dying because of faith in Me]; and wherever I am [in heaven’s glory], there will My servant be also. If anyone serves Me, the Father will honor him. “Now My soul is troubled and deeply distressed; what shall I say? ‘Father, save Me from this hour [of trial and agony]’? But it is for this [very] purpose that I have come to this hour [this time and place]. [Rather, I will say,] ‘Father, glorify (honor, extol) Your name!’ ” Then a voice came from heaven saying, “I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.” John 12:24-28 (AMP).
This past weekend, I watched an intriguing K-Drama that spoke to my heart on the journey of living again. The protagonist, Goo-deok, was born into slavery and lived in the Joseon era. During those times, nobles owned enslaved people, and many nobles (discussed in the show) believed enslaved people were worth less than pigs. Goo-deok’s sick mother had already been buried alive by their master, and she knew it was a matter of time before she or her father suffered a cruel fate. She planned her escape. She knew the risks but proceeded anyway. Unfortunately, the plan unraveled quicker than anticipated, causing havoc and a separation from her father. In a new city, she hides and works as a hostess in a small inn. One day, she meets a noble woman who encourages her to dream again, to live in color. Goo-deok only knows a life of survival. Still, she begins to hope.
The noble woman promises Goo-deok to her hometown, not as an enslaved person but as a companion. She seals the promise with a friendship ring. The same night, a scuffle breaks out, and the noble woman, trapped in the burning inn, urges Goo-deok to flee, to live. Goo-deok resists and faints from the smoky air. When she wakes up, she finds herself in an unfamiliar place and clothed in noble wear. The noble woman's family believes she is the noble lady because of the gifted ring. Goo-deok comes clean to the noble woman’s guardian, her grandmother. However, her grandmother begins to love Goo-deok as her own and adopts her as a daughter. It takes a while before Goo-deok comes out of hiding. She’s wrestling with the thought of becoming who she was destined to be, and with the grave mentality she adopted as an abused, enslaved person. Another tragedy strikes, and that causes a stir of emotions. She has had enough of herself. At the crossroads of destiny, Goo-deok chooses to embrace this new life, this second chance given, and she steps into her new identity, Lady Ok, Joseon's first legal woman advocate. She plays the most vital role in turning the state into a place of justice and righteousness. Of course, stepping into her destiny came with woes and opposition. The past hurled its face until she faced it. Though the crowd tossed stones at her back to condemn her, she stood in place. When her moment came, the same crowd adorned her with flowers at her feet.
Know this, as you relinquish your old self and level up. You will be tested, opposed, and misunderstood. You will even wrestle with getting to know the new you, but prevail anyway. Tether the cloak of who you were and rise to your destiny. It’s time to live again. Dear 23 is now available.
Dear 23.
Becoming is its own kind of grace.
Dear 23, is a poetic letter to the woman who thought she had to have it all figured out. In this soul-baring collection, the poet looks back on turning 23—the quiet threshold between who she was and who she was becoming—and writes to every version of herself that came after. Each poem is filled with weighty reflections on grief, heartbreak, trauma, becoming, healing, growing, and embracing identity and transformation. Dear 23 is for the woman who’s been through it, is going through it, or doesn’t yet have the words for what she’s feeling—but knows that something is shifting. Let these poems remind you: becoming is its own kind of grace.
Be Encouraged,
Love Monica.
