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The Blank Line

In illustrating the importance of the spirit-world, we wanted each youth in our teen class to create their timelines. We created a blank birth certificate and blank tombstones for the occasion. After the activity was finished, I found myself flabbergasted. There were more tombstones than birth certificates.  Upon a closer examination, I saw that many of the youth did not fill in the blank for “father’s name” on their birth certificates. Others simply put “I Don’t Care” in the blank space or did not create a birth certificate at all.

It saddened me and I found myself starring at one birth certificate with tears in my eyes. That blank line was a reminder that they once were abandoned and unwanted.  The truth was, in fact, that I was that kid roughly fifteen years ago and those were the thoughts circulating through my head and soul. I seriously do not know where I would be without the word and knowledge of God. I’m not saying I’ve arrived, but I’m not where I was.

The more I contemplated what I witnessed, the more I realized the affects that the blank line has had on my own life.


I watched as my young ones glared at you, loathed you with gnashing teeth

Detesting with every ounce they possessed

See, their caress was limited by your existence

Abandonment confirmed by your act of omission

What was it that proved to them that empty-space pained? I know . . .

It’s that blank line that should have carried your name



Even from the day I was born, you plagued me with your emptiness

And that lover’s caress you bestowed only a few months earlier was gone

And it was her name that was alone-My mother’s

As she lay in a pool of her own sin, tears and red water

Cradling in her arms, with burdensome joy, a ghost’s daughter

What was that which gave her no choice as she looked down to where I lay? I know . . .

It’s the blank line that should have carried your name.


What were You teaching me? What was it a part of Your plan

To let stand at a distance a love I could not touch, an aromatic hope I could not smell

Worthiness I could not behold lest I lust for it?

There was no hand to hold there in the separation of that vacant streak

Though my fragile heartbeat, I feared, would not survive should we convene

What was that which created this vast, bottomless void of sheer darkness and rain?

I know…


It’s the blank line that should have carried your name.


Yet, here I am, Jehovah Elohim. Here am I, shouting across the aloofness

Because the truth is that I cannot live as a child without a face, detached from Agape

A child inundated by a blank space

Therefore, My Creator, take this clay I call my flesh

Hurl it onto your Potter’s wheel and mend the ego fractured by shame

Knead with Your thumbs the solidified rubbish of malice, guilt, anguish and hate

Shave off dead weights that hold me hostage from sublime,

Imprisoning me to be a victim of that void line


Render null and void time, Elohim

Refold that flat span with Your vast hands that laid mountains and oceans

Go back past the children of my youth, a child at every age

Pass that babe at her mother’s bosom, before the ailing through which I was born

Spin until the world is without form and without nights and days

And there, I see, You knew me and gave me Your name

I am you and You are me, My Love

There, I heard His voice echo and let the sound waves invigorate the depths of my being

Completing in me the song I thought was lost until I arose with my feet dancing

My hands waving, my heart singing as I became one who was entire, lacking no thing


You see, only then could I love you

Only then could I embrace you and your good intentions

Taking no care to mention the acts of the past

Only then could I understand, discover and find

That your heart, too, was afflicted by the presence of that vacant line


When they ask what gives me the right to edify youth though my womb’s seen no heir

If they dare inquire how my young age will help turn the hearts of children to the heart of our Father

Without bother, I will tell you what I will proclaim and know . . .

It’s the blank line that should have carried your name . . . That now carries His.

~by Vickie Bowman

Editor’s Note: It is with deep humility and gratitude that we post this heart wrenching poem by Vickie. It took great courage for her to write it, and we share it here with hope that it will inspire others to allow God to step in and fill that void for them as He did so faithfully for Vickie.


Comments on: "The Blank Line" (5)

  1. […] The Blank Line (9,981 views) […]

  2. Stephanie Fortson said:

    Powerful! I love you Vickie

  3. Kathy Bailey said:

    You are a beautiful young lady with a beautiful talent. I am blessed to have you as my young teacher.

  4. Ann Brock said:

    I love it Vickie!

  5. Catherine Cavin said:

    Beautiful testimony.

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