The Truth, Condensed
Original artwork for this poem by Murielle Blanchard. Learn more about Murielle’s artwork on her DesertShipOfBeauty Etsy page.
© Murielle Blanchard 2025
With every house I walked into, my parents were doing their best to
give me what they could—give me what they should.
It came out wrong at times, cold at times, raw at times.
But, I am their life; no others could be my parents.
I don’t have to be sick to earn their time;
don’t have to be perfect to earn their smile;
don’t have to work to earn their gaze.
My mom and dad have already given it to me
from the beginning of my days.
From my conception they wanted me—welcomed me—wished me to be.
In this family I belong: I am connected to this family tree.
I am recognized—and seen—by my dad, my mom, and all my siblings.
I proclaim the truth that talking shop doesn’t make me my pop.
I am his daughter first. Yes a daughter with a thirst: for healing, and saving, and not caving into the pressures of this life.
I proclaim the truth that my mom wants to have a relationship with me.
I am born of her bones and her flesh: her very being.
They both live in me.
And they would choose me over a material thing, over a work thing.
They… they choose me.
I am not the confidant of my mother;
I am not the first born daughter;
I am not the wife of my father;
I am not responsible for my brothers;
I am not orphan nor mother;
I am the sisters of my siblings;
I am my parents’ second born daughter.
I am necessary in my family tree.
I am a branch among the rest of my siblings.
They love me and they see me.
No matter where I am planted, God, you prepare a place for me.
A place where I can be.
O how you love me!
You transform weightlessness and chaos into gravity.
O how you love me!
You give me friends along the way,
Friends for days.
You make me for them as you’ve made them for me.
Yes, I am a friend becoming free;
I am a friend worth having.
And so I proclaim:
What glory it is to be His selection
His preference, His ingenuity!
Written into time and given being.
He didn’t give me an animal nature;
No, He created me out of an overflow of his pleasure.
Yes, God loves me with perfect quality and quantity,
With perfect hue and measured potency.
Every curl he has designed with sequence and order.
Every curve he has given prominence from waist to shoulder, from nose to breast.
He didn’t make me second best: Yes!
Every centimeter he proportioned to give me my height;
He imagined my perspective when he painted stars into the night.
Every color he hand picked: every leather, chestnut, and copper.
You know who took the time to create me?
The Lord, my loving Father.
Every calf he outlined with strength and definition,
Yes, He gave me cute feet that I might enjoy them
Every garnet and gray, every green and gold
He has filled my eyes to veil the depths of my soul.
In the history of time God hasn’t manufactured any takebacks,
And if he could permit the Fall, and choose to go on,
I choose to believe that he can make his Glory dawn—in me.
I am not bound by my past
because He has destroyed the death that sought to silence me.
The only bound I am is bound to be free; marked, as His, for eternity.
I am not beyond repair; I am in process.
I am not a used good, just in a recess:
A recess to regather my strength that I might begin again.
He knew every misstep, every mistake,
every misled thought I’d misplace.
He knew every mortal sin I would make
And, He still willed me to be.
He paid the price upfront when he chose to forgive me.
He knew that my temptations are situations,
Not destinies.
My God has other plans for me.
My God is interested in me.
I am a person gifted many gifts,
Given many lifts—up from despair.
I am a person pregnant with many thoughts,
each one a galaxy wide and long.
I am a person filled with many desires,
like a multitude of embers they produce a great fire.
With passion, He has loved me into existence.
With passion, He inscribed His very image.
With passion, He has made me free to be animated and alive
even if it provokes a certain rip-tide,
a certain outcome of chosen sides.
Consequences will arise.
Still, I reject the lie that my passion, my prayers, my person might make another die.
I reject the lie that I will not be satisfied.
I reject the lie that my life is a series of interruptions which will never see a low tide.
I reject every lie that lies in wait.
And, with each breaking of the day,
I choose to be seen—
Vulnerable to another.
My intensity is for a purpose;
my suffering is worth it.
The misunderstandings that will time and again occur
Are invitations to be seen,
And I am worth it.
I will sing, sing to the Lord!
What glory it is to be his selection,
His preference, His ingenuity.
Written into time and given being,
I am His Glory!
About this poem
This poem is the result of an “exercise” I was tasked with in the spring of 2023. I traveled deeply into my held beliefs about myself, and my upbringing, and how those beliefs shaped my relationship with God, others, and myself. Essentially, this poem was a succinct and creative expression of the battle between the half-truths I used to live by and the persevering everlasting truths of who I truly am and now truly attempt to live out. I hope that others can find themselves in specific vignettes that I have captured and ultimately be encouraged to continue the journey until they reach the same true and definitive conclusion.
Prayer: Psalm 63: 2-9
O God, you are my God—
it is you I seek!
For you my body yearns;
for you my soul thirsts,
In a land parched, lifeless,
and without water.
I look to you in the sanctuary
to see your power and glory.
For your love is better than life;
my lips shall ever praise you!
I will bless you as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands, calling on your name.
My soul shall be sated as with choice food,
with joyous lips my mouth shall praise you!
I think of you upon my bed,
I remember you through the watches of the night
You indeed are my savior,
and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy.
My soul clings fast to you;
your right hand upholds me.
(The above translation was found on the USCCB website here.)
About the Author
Hi there. Here's the quick version: I was born in 1993, I have nine siblings, and over 35 houses to call "home." While I can't tell you with confidence whether or not I really do know how to distinguish between the uses of a semicolon and a colon: I do love to write and express myself through spoken word poetry and music. Finally, I know to whom I belong and I pray that these words help others on their own journey to Our Father and Our Mother.
About the artwork:
In this painting, the family tree is the focal point. It has ten branches, one for the author and each of her siblings. The trunk is twisted of multiple strands that come together to form the family. God is planting the tree, giving it a place ("gravity") and everything else that it needs (soil, light, and water). For its colors I used "green and gold," "leather, chestnut, and copper." Above it the stars are "painted into the night," while behind it the sun—reminiscent of the Eucharist—rises. This is to symbolize the tree of life, which calls to mind man's original glory in Eden as well as the Fall. God can bring good out of evil and His glory dawns in each one of us, despite our weaknesses and mistakes, when we repent and come to Him!
About the Artist:
Murielle Blanchard attended her first online Life-Giving Wounds retreat in 2020 and has been passionate about the ministry ever since. She and her husband live in New Mexico with their seven children, ages 8 to newborn. Her favorite subject to paint is flowers, and she enjoys doing custom projects like this one. Find more of her work at desertshipofbeauty.etsy.com.
Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals
What thoughts and emotions does this poem bring to your mind and your heart as you read it?
What lines stood out to you? What lines reflect your experience?
What does it mean to you that God created you as you are?
What lies do you reject about yourself? What truths do you proclaim about yourself?