Art and poetry pieces displayed here are directly created through a healing process.
Keep Digging
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Holes
Yes, we are digging holes
Tunnels maybe
Channels
Deeper and deeper still
At the surface we may be drying
Or dying
Stunted, stumped, forgotten, rotten
Asleep, dormant
We dig
Because we know that there is better life
Deep down
We remember something more
Something more than this world tells or sells
We hear a faint tune
New to us and yet old
Of ancient days
We dig
Carving out enough space to breathe
Because we are disenfranchised
Tired of the lies
Our eyes are fixed on something more bright
More light, more clear, more true, more good, more real
Deep in our hearts and souls
We know it exists
We will not stop until we find it
Our roots are buried
In rocky soil
Wounded and damaged
Boulder bulging
Blocking the cycle of life
From rejuvenation and renewal
It might seem like there is no hope
But, ah yes!
We are the diggers
Digging holes, tunnels, channels
Diving into trenches
Tearing down fences
Disarming defences
These rocks must be excavated
Carefully, delicately, expertly
Mined for any hidden treasure
Sifted of debris
This is a bloody, muddy endeavor
Hard work, great reward
Lonely, shadowed, grueling
We can only do it because He already has
Only do it if we know and trust Him deeply, intimately
We, the diggers, must find one another
Some days only the echo of another digger’s voice
From a neighbouring tunnel
Will keep us from the delusion of abandonment
The confusion swells
Digging through hell
But this tunnel is a well
We are driving for fresh water
For softer soil
For deeper rooting and healthier fruiting
For grafting to the tree of life
Dig, trust, rest, breathe, drink, speak truth
Love, dig, pull up the weeds and boulders
Let them fall from strong shoulders
For none was made to carry this weight
As we dig, the liquid light will fill the newly emptied spaces
Pushing up more and more and more
For examination, for release
For we are digging towards freedom
And new life
Christ, at the cross, into resurrection
For there are many buried so deep below
Unable to dig, or breathe, squeezed, barely holding on
Nearing the end of hope
And so, my trench friends
With all you have
With His strength
With courage
With passion
Keep digging!
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By Carlie Wilcox
Click here for online art magazine Collected - Theme Water
Click here for online art magazine Collected - Theme Light
Click here for online art magazine Collected - Theme Play
Resin art by Eva
Pour art by Eva
I’m NOT Sorry
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I’m NOT sorry
These tears are mine
I’m fine when I cry
I’ve been told to be quiet, settle down, and stop being so sensitive
I was shushed into a tiny, dark corner for years
Choking back the torrent storm swirling all around me
I didn’t even understand it then
But now I do: it was ugly
No wonder I wanted to cry
Thought if I died I might escape it
Thank God I’m still here
I’m NOT sorry
I’m not sorry for these tears, for my feelings, for being louder than a whisper
For taking up too much space, for needing nurture and attention
For making a mess, for questing, for speaking my truth
For revealing my pain to you
It’s true: I’m not sorry anymore
I used to excuse myself if I moved an inch out of cover
I would hover in the cave, shaking, quaking
But now, I’m brave
I’m NOT sorry
I’m not sorry for stirring your heart and soul
I’m not sorry for reflecting the pain you are neglecting
I’m not sorry for blowing your cover
I’m NOT sorry
I’m NOT
You’re welcome
​
By Carlie Wilcox
Let’s Talk, Sisters
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Come, sisters, let’s talk about this
Let’s get together
And be real
Let’s be honest
That we do need each other
That we yearn for more
Deeper connection, to know and be known
To be seen and heard
To matter
That we thirst for more presence
And fuller life
That it’s hard
That life is hard
That we don’t have it all together
That we are weak and lost
As often as we are strong and poised
That we are a beautiful, delicate bundle
Of mess, brokenness, pain, diamonds, and rubies
Let’s confess that we are scared and exhausted
And we’ve been hurt before in Christian community
Let’s face our fears together
Let’s open windows of transparency
By saying the words that need to be heard
By others trapped in isolation
Thinking they’re the only ones so beastly
So timid, so weak, so ugly
Let’s be brave together
Let’s grow together
Seek the Lord together
Iron sharpening iron, roses scenting roses
Let’s lean in
To feel lonely, empty, and hidden no more
Come, sisters, let’s agree to stop this mask-wearing insanity
Let’s be real, honest, open, still learning, in process
Drained from pretending, evading, escaping
Let’s confess, repent, lament, mourn, rejoice
Fall down, rise up, make art, tell stories, play, sit still
Become who God created us to be, make mistakes
Pray, battle, face sin, and lift one another up
Again, and again, and again
Together
Sisters, let’s talk about this
I’m starving for more
Aren’t you?
By Carlie Wilcox
Garden in my Kitchen
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There’s a garden growing in my kitchen
Only God can take the broken pieces
And make something new and beautiful, bountiful
The kitchen was a desert wasteland
Dry, torched, barren
The place of stuffed down secrets
Sweets piled on top of pain, again and again
In silence and shame
No care taken, no fun making, no baking together
Stormy weather in the kitchen
No gathering around a table
Barely able to join our hands, our hearts
Food was abused
Used as medication, vacation, control, numbing
Eaten absently, quickly, separately
Disconnected
The kitchen was full of death, bones, filth and rot
Not a place of relationship
I grew up without a mom
To show me my place in the kitchen, in the world
Food had become my deepest wounding
But then God began to pour His healing water in the desert
And slowly things began to soften and moisten
Never could have imagined new life in this place
Always thought I was chained to the duty
In the kitchen
Never imagined finding beauty
In the kitchen
Slowly I’m seeing sprouts and buds
Smelling fresh and fragrant aroma
God is taking down the house
Beginning to rebuild
In the kitchen
How many times I’ve tried, ways I’ve tried
Cried and cried
Stumbled and hit the ground
God has found me in my disparity
Given me clarity
Showing me His way after I’ve burned out all my ways
Oh how different is His way
Different, scary, but beautiful, amazing
Breathtaking
Not just taking away the pain and suffering
But artfully making abundance and wonder
Giving far more than I ever could have asked for
Yes, there is a garden growing in my kitchen
God only knows what I’m going to do
With all these flowers
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By Carlie Wilcox