I’m not sure if I should write something funny, something desirably
profound, or just write in general. I have no preconceived flow to where my
fingers on this keyboard will go. I have no will in this writing game, I’ve
already lost to my thoughts. So here I go.
I’m sick. I’m sick of hearing the unsolicited deep-voiced
advertisements. I’m tired of being tantalized by the barbaric call to action
commercials. Our world is suffocating my mind’s freedom to think. I can’t step
two feet without the bombardment of a brand or a logo’s screaming graphics,
paralyzing the now-tainted moment of meditative thought I once had detained.
I have an idea!
It’s time to slow down.
It’s time to shut off your Draw Crap
app, and really DRAW SOMETHING.
It’s okay to unplug your multi-tasking mind
from the socket of social media dreamland. Relax. Unwind. Have a conversation
with someone’s face rather than your phone.
These are my suggestions driven by compounded frustrations
and probably early symptoms of monthly PMS.
There's no doubt you exist
but doubt in myself that your hand I'll miss
Self enraptured I ignore your touch
I slip away from your grasp too much
far away from you
into my hole I dig...and then ensues
the next step...To jump or pray?
that I wake up from this nightmare today...
The moments I give into my fears
are the times I feel satan creep near
he decieves me and lures me in
his power almost secures his win
my faith is a volcano ready to erupt
my devotion a seed that blooms
my love the thunder that booms
my life a gift of grace
Your forgiveness, a never ending space
What am I waiting for?
To give all my earthly weight to You Lord?
I look up and see Your light
Your effervescent might
My reflection remains the same (if you don’t count the
sprouting fleshy imperfections and wrinkles that have unwelcomingly unpacked
their bags under my eyes.) But the soul within my fascia facade is
unrecognizable. I have never known myself the way I know myself now. I have
never truly beckoned my reflection in the mirror to show me the truth. Instead
I suffocated its cry for help, chained its reaching hands, and muted its
blatant pleads. I became my own master and like Hitler, embarked on a selfish
vanity crusade, slaughtering my humble heart on an ignorant battlefield of
bliss. I was killing myself inside without knowing.
Today as I peer into a mirror, I am confronted by a broken
soul that stares back at me, desperately gasping for life. I realize that I have
no power to nurture it back to health. I have no strength to heal the
self-inflicted wounds that pulsate in pain. I can not look within myself, my
surroundings, or others to fill my decrepit desires and gaping voids.
Now what I confess, you may never believe, but it is true.
All the compounded years of abuse, doubt, guilt, and fear that have surfaced in
the gouged and scarred secrets within, are slowly healing under God’s warm
touch. Each day as I face the problems I thought I had drowned, I find myself
swimming with them to an island of redemtion; while the identity I so carelessly crafted for
myself sinks in death.
I thank God for saving my heart from complete
self-destruction. I thank God for lifting my soul from the icy floor and
renewing me in a blanket of love. I thank God for the forgiveness he has relentlessly shown me, and for the forgiveness I have found within my own
confines.
I will welcome all parts of my reflection: broken, battered
and salvaged to wade in God’s ocean of light, for I am not defined by my problems
and pains, rather I am renewed and washed clean by the perfection of Christ.