Her head so high, not quite in vain,
The truth inside, a bit arcane.
She hides it tight to cloak the pain;
The price of peace becomes a strain.
The sin has left behind a stain,
The scar, the mark—her life, her bane.
To drag along this weighted chain
She builds to fall and grow again.
What can be found to break the fence
Now rooted deep with permanence?
The air so thick and breath so dense
It, all too much, beyond intense,
Her heart so weak from this offense,
She stands to make a strong defense.
She wipes away a muted tear,
The cut upon her will, severe.
She prays for strength to persevere,
The wind of storms she cannot fear.
To keep the faith in days unstable,
In trust she walks. The broken, able.
Chara Donahue enjoys freelance writing, biblical counseling, and speaking to women when her four kids are out playing with dad. She holds an MSEd from Corban University and is passionate about seeing people set free through God’s truths. She is a regular contributor at iBelieve and her words have appeared at Christianity Today’s Women Leaders, Crosswalk, (in)courage, and The Huffington Post. She longs to be a voice that says, “Hey we are in this together, and there is room for us all.” You can find more from Chara at One Anchored Voice, Facebook, and Twitter.