Ojciec

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I found a room I could hide. Where the only chair is flipped on it’s back, the fluorescent headlights watch overhead, and the walls are as lonely as the scraps of paper that litter the floor. This very room has become my home.

I no longer have my favorite stoplight among a desolate street corner, nor do I find myself wandering to my misplaced bench or wrapping my fingers around the locked temple gates past dark… All I have is this room.

There, I take time to listen, but I realize I don’t recognize my own mind. Living in the confines of my own thoughts can sometimes be a scary thing, because when the songs stop repeating and the photo side-show of life events have run one too many, I am left with the daunting question of:

Who is Siostra Bąk

I know too well who Katie Bak is. I’ve lived under that name my whole life; braces with bangs, breakups, overzealous hot chocolate addict, snorting laugh, and enough passion to fill an empty water tower.

But Siostra Bąk…. missionary… isn’t quite as easy to recognize.

My days are not found diving into travel books or eating sandy ice cream and talking story with friends at the ocean, nor do I live behind the lens of my films like I used to..

My days are filled with endless praying, wondering if I’d hear God clearer in a different language, so I do that too, I live in piles of Polish note-cards, and bible versus. I open my mouth and all that comes out is:

“Ojciec, Ojciec (father, father)”

My heart has forgotten what it feels like to be touched by a man but it has began to realized what it is like to need the love of a father, a Heavenly Father.

I have never needed him more than now. Maybe he knew that. Maybe he knew the only way to get me to see that is by changing me. By taking away everything and everyone. By
giving me a nametag without my own and asking me to learn to trust in him.

And Maybe he gave me this empty room to reset that fallen chair… to look at how beautiful bare walls can be… to force me to wonder what potential could come of it with some fresh watercolors and trusting heart.

Siostra Bak tag

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