Today’s post was written by our Brave Writer Jazmyne Tamar…

Some love stories were written for us by strangers who have never been in love for themselves, while others were written for us before our consent to live them Once upon a time, when I thought that I had loved you, I forfeited my throne to live amongst the peasants’ throng. Blindly, I followed you into the corridors of your sins and convinced myself that I’d give up all of heaven just to lay with you in your filth. Your kisses were like acid in the wounds of my integrity and I had convinced myself that I loved the burning away of my salvation. Your lips were the gates of hell, so eagerly parted for me to enter and I ran through them searching to find myself. Every time my eyes closed in what you perceived to be pleasure, I was desiring to be somewhere else. Every time you reached out for me, I desired that you’d throw me back into the atmosphere of heaven and, yet, you dragged me into the flames of hell. For I was trapped in the cycle of hurting myself as punishment for failing at what I’d always desired. I gave myself willingly to you as a token of my servitude to the skeletons that had abandoned my closets and stormed my sanctuary. I became a stranger in another lover’s fantasy.

Foolishly, I began to believe that I had only imagined a life of royalty and purpose before you, and I succumbed to the ways of the commoners. I gazed at the skies with a longing that could not be filled by your kiss, your taste, your fill, and your shaft… They were never for me, anyway. I gazed at the heavens with a prayer that could not be answered by your empty promises, your insults, and your false praises. My soul howled into the nights, calling for their lost love to come and rescue them from the hells that I had come to know as my domain. I called myself Satan’s kin, not in admiration and pride of the scorned that I had become. No, it was more of a condemnation of myself for leaving heaven to be with demons, when the angels kissed at my feet. It was a mark that I had branded into my essence so that I would forever burn for what I had become. Forgiveness was no longer an option, but a fairy tale promised to the rich and the worthy; both of which I no longer qualified to identify as a personal classification of myself. I was lost in you and lost in love and only Death could find me there.


But I was wrong… For out of the darkest of places, I saw the familiar light of the wings of the angels that had once served me in heaven. I hid myself in shame of what I had become; my rags that revealed my flesh as though they were merely scabs on the surface and the pain in my eyes that had become weighed down by sins that I had witnessed, shamelessly, had now become an embarrassment. For the first time in a series of nightmares, I remembered the dreams of royal living and had become aware of my true and initial state of existence before you. I felt the clutches of your calloused hands as they promised me pleasure and worth, tighten around my ankles like shackles to the prison floors at my first step to redemption. I heard you calling out to me-for me-to stay with you and lay with you “one last time” and they sounded like chains rattling in the corridors of a jailhouse. But baby, I must leave you now to wallow in your own sins for yourself. For I have discovered my worth and my song and am free from the burden of singing the songs of jailbirds and prisoners as they chant for days in freedom and rain. I am free to reign in my own freedoms-Alone and Renewed.

For the throne is my home and the Lord is my strength, my Father, my Protector, for He has found me in my darkness and still desires my presence in His Kingdom forever. In spite of my blatancy to abandon His presence, He has found me, NOT DEATH. He has restored me in what I once was and am to be. Confidently, I can walk in my Truths and cast out the lies. For only He can bring Beauty to the Chastened. Hope to the Broken. Healing to the Lost. And Blood to the Dead. And as I sit, not wholly renewed and, yet, fully restored, I am aware of myself in who I am and not who I thought and behaved myself to be. His love is my fortress and His grace are my bandages. His mercy is my anthem and His words are my song. His Promises are Fulfilled in my faithfulness to Him and that is the Happily Ever After to the tale of this Forgiven Sinner.


Jazmyne is zealous for seeing God’s love reflected in the lives of the broken-spirited and the oppressed. She aspires to use her writing as a means to communicate His love to the world. Her dream is to help raise a generation of Christ-like individuals who help to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth. You can read more of her work on her blog: http://writtenbyjazmynetamar.com.<br

photo credit: disneyspeak.com

photo credit: paul bica

2 thoughts on “Overthrown.

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