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hi you,

I'm the tourist on the metro, lover of markets and dresses, a writer in the local coffee shop, and the friend who is always up for a picnic and conversation. 

More recently, making the journey through loneliness to write a book.

Welcome to L. Raine

shattered self-confidence

shattered self-confidence

Occasionally, when I haven’t taken enough spiritual care of myself, doubt attacks me.

Recently, I had a night when my self-confidence was shot and no amount of pep talk was going to bring it back. It was a time of waiting it out, knowing that it would take a few days to recover. That happens to anxiety warriors, you know? Sometimes we take a beating, but we know how to fight.

I fought, and got myself back, though not without cost. The next morning, washed out and limp, I wrote free verse about it. I wasn’t going to post it, because hello opening up a private bit of my world, but a friend encouraged it.


Self esteem grinds on rocks tonight,

Laughing as it gyrates through shards and slices my thoughts,

How do I rescue it?

Damages are done,

I sleep

In the morning joy does not return,

But fighting, to get myself back is finished

and I’m weary

How does healing start?

I work.

I marvel at people who take on brain surgery, rock solid

Those rocks are the ones that laugh at me, constantly mocking

“Can you do it?”

People are hurting,

I eat,

Joy does not return with strength,

The travail of mankind does not finish and we are weary

How does rest come?

We think.

Under the sun we burn and struggle,

Understanding is hard, and the rocks cry out to God

Am I worth my pain?


Found in the unexpected places

It is the choice I never finish, because always I ask again:

How will I love?

I worship

Laughing at the days to come is impudent,

But God, who is rich in kindness and mercy says,

“What is this you have done?”

I am naked,

I hide

Stripped of joy and sorrow,

I agonize and make another choice to finish this mess,

How can I go?

I come

He is warm and gentle, like a summer rain

Smiling, as I shiver in shame and he says,

“Come sit with me?”

We both have scars,

We both have scars,

I rest.

Tears of joy

My work is finished and his has only begun to work perfection in me

“Why do you call me good?”

“I AM.”

The Day I bought Gym Pants

The Day I bought Gym Pants

15 Times Boston felt like a Novel

15 Times Boston felt like a Novel