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Brick by brick I build this wall around my temple my heart. Broken I build these barriers that should have stood from the start. After continuing to shift my structure I realize what I've done. I've been remodeling to please the masses when it should have been only for One. By: Heather Alaine Smith

The bully of appearances how long you have tormented me. You bind my hands and steal my serenity. You mask yourself as good intentions and holiness But I will play your fool no further. For I know what you really are underneath all the shine and sparkle. Your breath is vile and your stature shallow. Your hollowed out chest puffs up with pride. You yank on the reins of manipulation running over all who stand in your way. Oh, how I want nothing to do with you! If "you are every

I am proud of you. You who are depressed, exhausted, overworked, alienated, beaten, and broken. As you crack open the door, you open yourself up to my imperfect people, my church, my bride. Saved by grace, with good works in hand, they strive to bring redemption to the world by my death and resurrection. I have not forgotten you. I have always been here waiting for you, but only you can choose to walk through the door. -Heather Alaine Smith

I filled out the forms. I sent the e-mails. Denied. Every Time. Chronic illness doesn't understand. By the world's standards I am unemployed. But my reality is that I can never take off. Yes, there are good days, but they are days not weeks not months. I am not alone. There are millions of us. Misunderstood. Overlooked. Forgotten. Just longing for some time off. By: Heather Alaine Smith

My mother's hands were chapped and dry; acrid land. She washed the never ending line of dishes, the piles of soiled laundry, and us. No accolades, nor awards, a mumbled thanks in passing (maybe). To the hands that held so much together. Through the caring, cleaning, and scrubbing. In the background. Laughing, caring, crying. Her prints were washed away. Barely leaving a mark, but her presence has shaped mountains. Her prints gone. Slowly taken. But not forgotten. Like so many