I’m a lily

This poem is written for all the 
personalities that are like lilies.
Just be yourself, one hundred percent.

I’m a lily, 
But I wish…
I wish I was…
A cactus.

Prickly. Stern.
Dare to poke me
you will feel my burn.

But Instead I’m
Delicate. Gentle.
Easily bruised…
So, so sensitive.

God, 
I wish I could be mean
you know?
Develop a fearsome skin. 
But much as I try
it feels so strange from within. 

It isn’t—really—me.

You see I’ve spent years
trying to survive this world by
pleasing it.
Apologizing for my gentleness
as if being kind 
was some kind of weakness.

But I’m awake now.
And I’m done trading
my sensitivity
for the silence of self-denial.

I was made to 
reflect the heart of God.
Not the opinion of man.
I was made to 
walk in truth.
Not to tiptoe.
I was made to 
be discerning.
Not desperate.
Authentic.
Not agreeable to dysfunction.
Astute.
Not always agreeable to opinions. 

And gentle?
Yes.
But wrapped in a strength
you can’t see on the surface.

Are you listening?

Because I finally am.
And what I hear…
is Him telling you and I:

“Stop shrinking
to fit their own plans.
Start rising
to reflect who I am.”

So no—
I am not a cactus.
I am still a lily.
But now I bloom under His light,
not their opinions.
I bend for His will, not their attitudes.

And I please. . .
I please only Him.