Please Don’t Pretend You Know Me

My scars, rippling and raw,
Not in my skin, but in my heart,
Are mainly the result of people
Who think they know me, but don’t.


People who say,
“She did this, so she thinks that.”
People who say,
“She doesn’t do this, so she isn’t committed.”
People who assert they know my mind, my heart, my motives, my intentions …
But they are not mind-readers or heart-readers,
Haven’t walked in my shoes.

I don’t know what their intentions are … or their motivations,
Why they act like they know me so well as to read my heart,
Why they claim to have the privilege of knowing how I think or feel.
I won’t even guess, because
Neither am I a mind-reader or a heart-reader,
Nor have I walked in their shoes.


I only know their words hurt.
Sticks and stones would not leave these scars, only bruises.
Hurtful words leave scars that rarely heal.
Pretending to know me, when they don’t
Hurts more than anyone can imagine.


I bury myself deep inside a brittle shell,
The only protection I know.


Pressing into Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my Faith.
The only One who truly knows me.
The only mind-reader.
He knows my heart better than I know it myself.


Being truly known is the only salve for scars
Caused by those who don’t truly know.


Because He thinks I’m worth truly knowing.



Alyce-Kay Ruckelshaus 11.12.17

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