Saturday, 22 November 2008
-
I dream even when awake: Shreds of hope and threadbare sanity.
I still want to be your friend, even if you don't want to be mine. I don't care who you meet or what you do or whether you even like me enough to give me a glance or a single word of acknowledgment: I will always be there for you. This is a love you may never understand; and the fear that you will never know it breaks my heart.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
22nd Nov. 2008 0529
Whenever I imagine the metajourney of my life, the spiritual or otherwise non-physical path I walk... it's just that: a path. I imagine myself sitting or pausing only long enough to enjoy the view, take a deep breath, and continue on my way. I don't see myself as ever settling down, but always forging ahead to God-knows-where. Always in the wilderness, always alone but for God and his creation. And never supplied. As God sent ravens to Elijah to feed him, so he brings to me that which I need in its time... Or, he takes me to it.
But alone, God? This world is so beautiful in your hands, but I feel as if I am the only one who sees it. May I take another along, just one other to share in this glory? I might, but you ask not. You I love above all others, but I do not understand you. Nor do I understand this waiting. Shall I be judged for my disobedience when I know not your will?
Holy, unblamable, unreproveable.
It is not good for man to be alone, yet here I am, lost and desperate. My heart aches for another. Is this the ghost pain of that which I have lost? Or the pain of a distance so near to being bridged, yet so far from my knowledge of your will?
Grant my heart's desire, oh Lord, if it be your will. Bring me to one whom to hold and love and rejoice in your handiwork. Ease my spirit, and let all I do be for your glory and honor. Guide my feet and lift me up by your grace.------------------------------------------
God, this world is broken. You sent your son to mend the wounds, and he put the work into my hands. But am I yet broken, even in your hand? There is no strength left in me, yet if I stop here all is surely lost; gain will be made loss, teaching made burden. Am I meant to live in these ruins? Am I meant to live in this desert?
------------------------------------------------
Four men had sat on this wall. Three were gone, spirited away by the cold rain as they each abandoned their safety, seeking out their own doomed means. One remained, protected by the shelter of the living tree above him. He knew his safety, and nevertheless was restless. He alone knew life in this protection, and his heart broke for those who trudged through the cold. But how to tell them, when they were so far away? It would cost him his life, to leave the canopy and walk out to them.
A noble death if ever there were one, he decided. Teardrops mixed with raindrops as he plunged into the storm...-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Why do you do this to me? I have given you everything I can afford to give, and now even as I continue to love you, you strike out to wound me, without even the mercy to kill. How have I ever deserved this from you? Since the day we met I have been the best to you that I know how, indeed sacrificing greatly of myself for your sake. Where have I gone wrong, that you would be so quick to lash at me? Why are you so quick to see evil in me, when all I have ever wanted for you is good?
------------------------------------------
The sun always sets eventually, but at least there is peace in the night.
-
recommend
- recs 0
-
share
-
email
- sent 0
Post a Comment