Sometimes I wonder how I can feel so small and my feelings can feel so big. They seem to loom over me with their “Fee-fi-fo-fum” and I cower deeper into myself. I try to battle the giants, but truth be told, I’ve never been a giant slayer.
I think I fight myself more than I fight the giants.
My giant has a name, but he doesn’t tell everyone. Instead he wears hats with nicknames like:
I don’t think he likes me to use his real name because it’s not as powerful. All these nicknames, even his real name, is about me, not about him.
The word sinks deep and as many times as I bury it, it resurrects itself with a glance in the mirror or words yelled in anger. I do this to myself. I’ve yet to find an undo button for life.
So my giant stays.
And somehow I think I’m the only one with monsters that know my weak places before I do.
There’s a secret that I whisper hoping my heart and my head can listen.
My giant has a giant. His battle cry is not a “Fee-Fi-Fo” but a truth: “I AM.”
And those two words take all my giants out at the knees until they are on their faces because those two words are all He needs.
The truth is, they are all I need.
Because I AM a child of the Giant above all others, and I don’t need to be giant slayer. He’s got me covered.