My Own Amen

I learned to fold my hands before I learned to find my voice
I learned to follow every word before I learned I had a choice
I loved the songs, I loved the light, I loved the sense of home
But somewhere in the pews, I lost the thread back to my own
I gave my questions to the altar, watched them turn to smoke
I wore the peace like borrowed clothing, never really mine to hold
And for the longest time, I told myself that doubt was just a test
Until the day I realized — my soul was asking for the rest

It wasn't easy, it wasn't clean
It wasn't leaving what I loved behind
It was choosing something harder —
It was choosing to be mine

I'm finding my own amen
My own sacred, my own when
My own way of being holy
In the quiet, in the open
In the morning, in the wondering
In the questions, finally blooming
I'm finding my own amen
And it sounds like — me

I miss the arms of something bigger holding me in place
I miss the map that told me clearly how to navigate my days
There's a loneliness in freedom that nobody warned me of
When the structure falls away, and you're rebuilding what you love
But I have found the sacred in the spaces in between
In the forest and the silence, in the ordinary and unseen
In the way my heart still reaches for something I can't name
A holy that is wider than the walls from which I came

It wasn't leaving faith behind
It was trusting something deeper than the line
Between the woman I was told to be
And the woman I kept finding — underneath

I'm finding my own amen
My own sacred, my own when
My own way of being holy
In the quiet, in the open
In the morning, in the wondering
In the questions, finally blooming
I'm finding my own amen
And it sounds like — me

I honor every prayer I prayed in earnest
Every song I sang with my whole heart
I don't regret the years of faithful searching
They were part of how I learned to tell them apart
The voice that told me who I ought to be
From the voice that whispered — darling, you are free
And that voice — that quiet, steady, knowing voice
Was always mine, was always mine to choose
So I walk out not in anger but in grace
With gratitude for all that held me to this place
And a trust that something sacred lives in me
That no one has the power to take away
No one has the power to take away

I'm finding my own amen
My own sacred, my own when
My own way of bowing inward
To the holy I've been carrying
Through the leaving and the grieving
Through the doubting and believing
I'm finding my own amen
And it sounds like — free
It sounds like — true
It sounds like me

You don't have to choose
between faith and freedom.
Sometimes the most sacred thing
You will ever do
is trust the voice
That was always
yours.