May 2025 Poetry Challenge

Anyone who knows me, knows that I love poetry. I love writing it, reading it, analysing it – there is just something about it that helps to calm me and get my thoughts out on paper. I thought I’d do something a little bit different and start a poetry challenge. Please tag me in your poems (@recovering_my_ sparkle on Instagram) and use the hashtag maypoetrychallenge as well!

  1. A letter to your past self – what advice would you give the younger you?
  2. A place that feels like home – describe a location that brings comfort to you.
  3. Things left unsaid – write about words you never said out loud and what they mean to you.
  4. Roots and wings – write about growth and freedom.
  5. The language of flowers – choose a flower and let it ‘speak’.
  6. Firelight and shadows – explore warmth and fear in contrast using the metaphors of fire and shadows.
  7. Echoes of laughter – pick out a joyful memory and write about that.
  8. The love that changed you – whether it’s romantic or platonic, how did this love shape you?
  9. If your reflection spoke back – what would it say?
  10. A letter from the stars – what would they say?
  11. A scar tells a story – physical or emotional, what do your scars say?
  12. The first time you felt free – capture that moment and the emotions that you felt.
  13. A secret you never said – it can be real or imagined.
  14. A thunderstorm inside you – how does this feel?
  15. Love letter to a stranger – write to someone you’ll never meet.
  16. The ghost of someone still alive – a person who drifted away.
  17. The taste of nostalgia – capture a memory through tatse.
  18. A storm that never ends – what would it feel like to live inside this?
  19. The colour of loneliness – what colour would it be, and why? Is this something you can relate to?
  20. A world without fear – imagine it, describe it, paint a picture (through words) about what it would be like.
  21. If I could hold time in my hands… – Start by finishing this line, what would you do with it?
  22. A place you can never return to – physically or emotionally.
  23. A dream that felt more real than reality – what happened?
  24. Write a poem that ends with a beginning – a cycle, a rebirth, a new start.
  25. A clock that runs too fast (or too slow) – what would it change?
  26. The garden that only blooms at night – what would grow there? What things bloom and thrive in the darkness?
  27. The sound of healing – talk about what you believe healing, recovery, forgiveness, or peace sounds like.
  28. A conversation with the moon – what would you say? What would it reply?
  29. Tomorrow begins with… – finish the thought.
  30. The first line of a new chapter – what do you think is next for you in your life?

Let me know how you get on!

All my love,

Anna x

Is This What Safe Looks Like?

I recently wrote, performed and shared this spoken word poem on my TikTok account and it seems that a lot of people could relate to it. If you can relate, I’m incredibly sorry, but I also hope you find some comfort in knowing that you’re not alone in feeling this way.

They say,

“Call for help.”

But I did.

And help came

with flashing lights

and cold stares

and hands too firm

for someone already breaking.

“Trust the system,” they said.

But I did.

And the system strapped me down,

spoke over me

called me non-compliant

when I was just

trying not to fall apart.

Safe?

You tell me what’s safe

about being told

your story is “too much”.

That your pain

needs a label

before it gets attention?

What’s safe

about uniforms

that make your skin crawl,

white coats

that feel like warning signs,

and police who ask questions

but don’t really want the answers?

I learned the hard way:

“Safe” is a lie

when you’ve been hurt

by the helpers.

When your cries

get translated into crazy.

When your trauma

gets brushed off as behavioural.

When your body

is treated

but your soul

is left bleeding in the waiting room.

You see,

no one tells you

how much bravery it takes

just to walk through the door

of a hospital

when the last one left scars.

No one talks about

how the ones with the power

can do damage

with a clipboard and a checklist,

with a shrug,

with a sedative

with a look that says,

“You again?”

This is what it’s like to be afraid

of the people you’re told to run to.

To flinch

when the sirens wail

in the streets.

To go quiet

in the presence of authority

because the last time you spoke –

it cost you something.

So don’t ask

why I didn’t tell you sooner.

Why I waited.

Why I lied and said “I’m fine.”

Because when “help” feels like harm

silence becomes survival.

And I’ve mastered the art

of sounding okay

just enough

to stay alive.

But I’m tired.

I want safe

to mean something again.

I want healing that doesn’t hurt.

I want care that listens before it labels,

that asks before it acts,

that sits with me

before it tries to fix me.

Because I’m not a problem.

I’m a person.

And I don’t want to be saved –

I want to be seen.

Here is a link to the original TikTok incase you want to hear it spoken rather than just reading it:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNdYwQbUu/

All my love,

Anna x

When Healing Doesn’t Come: Trusting God in the Waiting

This post is one that is hugely personal to me and is on a topic that I have spent a long time looking at and learning about. If you have ever prayed for healing – whether that’s mental health, physical health, or emotional wounds – you will know how hard it is when healing doesn’t come in the way you expect.

Perhaps you’ve cried out to God, but your depression still lingers. Maybe you’ve begged for relief from physical pain, but the symptoms persist. Maybe you’ve asked God to heal the wounds of trauma, but you still wake up feeling broken. When healing doesn’t come – or when it comes slowly – it’s easy to feel forgotten, discouraged, or even angry at God.

If you’ve asked God, Why haven’t you healed me? I want you to know that you are not alone. You only have to look through the Bible to see this. Some of the people we most associate with faith wrestled with this question.

Paul, for example, had what he called a ‘thorn in the flesh’. Whilst we don’t know what it was exactly – some people believe that it was a chronic illness, others think it was emotional suffering – but what we do know is that Paul pleaded with God three times to take it away. And God’s response?

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

That wasn’t the answer that Paul was looking for. He wanted healing. But instead, God gave him grace. And that’s hard to accept, isn’t it? Because when we pray for healing, we don’t just want grace to endure – we want relief. And when it doesn’t come, it becomes easy to wonder if God is even listening.

I think that one of the hardest things about faith is that we often expect healing to come in a specific way, but God sees the bigger picture.

Does that mean we shouldn’t pray for healing? Not at all. Jesus himself healed people throughout the Gospels. God is a healer, and we should absolutely bring our needs to Him. But sometimes, it doesn’t happen in the way we expect.

Maybe healing is happening slowly, in a process instead of a miracle. Maybe healing isn’t just physical, but emotional or spiritual. Maybe healing comes in the form of endurance and peace in the middle of suffering, rather than the removal of the suffering itself.

One of my favourite reminders of this comes from Isaiah 43:2

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned.”

God doesn’t promise we won’t walk through deep waters or fire. But He does promise to be with us in it.

Holding Onto Faith in the Waiting

So, what do we do when healing feels out of reach? How do we hold onto faith when we’re still in the middle of pain?

  1. Be honest with God – God isn’t afraid of your frustration, your disappointment, or your doubt. If you feel angry, tell Him. If you feel weary, cry out to Him. The Psalms are full of raw, unfiltered prayers – God invites that kind of honesty.
  2. Remember that suffering is not a sign of abandonment – one of the biggest lies we believe is that if we’re still suffering, it must mean God has forgotten us. But the cross tells a different story. Jesus Himself suffered, not because He lacked faith, but because suffering is part of life in a broken world. God’s presence is not proven by the absence of pain – He is with us in the pain.
  3. Look for small signs of grace – sometimes, healing comes in unexpected ways. Maybe you’re not free from illness, but you’ve found a deeper sense of peace. Maybe you still struggle, but you’ve built a community that walks with you. Healing isn’t always about the absence of pain – it’s also about the presence of God’s grace in the middle of it.
  4. Keep hoping, even in the unknown – it’s okay to wrestle with God’s timing. It’s okay to not understand. But don’t lose sight of this: the story isn’t over yet. We may not see full healing in this life, but as Revelation 21:4 reminds us, there is a day coming when:

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

And that is the ultimate hope we cling to. One day, all suffering will end. Until then, God walks with us through it.

I recently read Ruth Chou Simons book ‘Now and Not Yet’ and it changed my perspective completely. I highly encourage reading it if you have struggled with trusting God in the waiting. The book touches on seasons of waiting and when life isn’t what we have hoped or planned.

“I truly believe your current season is not wasted,” writes Simons. “God is purposeful about what happens between today and tomorrow, between right now and someday. My prayer is that we stop hiding behind simple platitudes and quick fixes to our unwanted right nows and bravely step into the ways God wants to change us… instead of staying busy trying to change our circumstances.”

All my love,

Anna x

God and Medication: Can Faith and Treatment Coexist?

If you’ve ever struggled with your mental health or chronic illness and considered medication, I’m almost certain that you will have heard something similar to the following, at least once: “You don’t need meds, just pray harder”, “God is a healer – why rely on medication?” or “Medication is just a crutch; real healing comes from faith.”

These kinds of messages can make us feel guilty for seeking medical help, as if choosing medication means we’re somehow failing in our faith. But here’s what I want to explore today: Can faith and treatment coexist? Can you trust God and take medication? (If you want a quick answer and spoiler then here it is – yes, you absolutely can). So, let’s talk about why.

Let’s be real – there is still a lot of stigma around medication, just in society in general. Thankfully this stigma seems to be lessening over time, but that doesn’t mean it has disappeared. And here’s the thing – mental illness is not always a spiritual issue – but it is always a medical one. Just like some people with diabetes require insulin, mental health conditions sometimes require medication. This doesn’t mean you have a lack of faith, it just means that your brain needs medical support.

Consider this: if someone has high blood pressure, do we tell them to stop their medication and just pray more? No, we would encourage them to use the tools they have available to them – medication included – but to also trust God at the same time.

There is a misconception that if you take medication it means you don’t trust God enough. But look at it from this point of view – what happens if medication is one of the ways that God can provide healing? James 1:17 says:

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights.”

God has given the wisdom to doctors, scientists and researchers to create medication that can help people. If we believe that God can work through doctors and medicine for physical healing, why wouldn’t we consider this when it comes to mental health?

Faith and medication can work together in a number of ways:

  1. Medication can help stabilise you so you can work on recovery – it doesn’t mean that you are taking a shortcut or avoiding deeper healing. It can give you the stability that you need to do the deeper work.
  2. Seeking medical help can be viewed as a form of stewardship – in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, we are reminded that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. Taking care of our mental and physical health – including using medication – is a way of honouring God by looking after our bodies.
  3. God can work through science – God isn’t against medication – after all, he created the minds that develop it. Throughout history, God has used human knowledge and ability to bring healing.

I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you must try medication – it’s a personal choice and isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution. But there are things you can do when you are considering whether or not to try meds.

  1. Pray for wisdom – ask God to guide you. Philippians 4:6 reminds us to bring everything to God in prayer.
  2. Get advice from others – talk to doctors, family, friends and discuss your concerns and questions. If you talk to someone from your church, find someone who understands both faith and mental health.
  3. Remember that God can use multiple ways for healing – sometimes healing is instant (and this is what we all hope for, isn’t it?) but other times, it’s something that takes time, treatment, therapy, and spiritual growth. Trust that God can work through all of these options.

Jeremiah 30:17 says:

“‘But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,’ declares the Lord.

God cares about your healing, in every sense – physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. If medication is part of that process for you, it doesn’t mean you lack faith. It means you are using the resources that God has made available for you.

All my love,

Anna x