.: taking you home :.

We have been away for some time now. Part of me is beginning to long for home. It feels like we have been through much, though so little of it could ever have been prepared for. We remain with family, but these places we come to are only for a little while longer. My health is waning. I feel like I can focus on nothing at all. We had sought this freedom for a while, but now that we are here, I feel caught in the plain and common. This has been a break from what we have grown used to. But just when life had changed, we were pulled into this corner of the world. Our time has almost come to an end. Some are never given such time at all. Now that we have given ourselves to every moment, we must say goodbye. I hate goodbyes! But they inevitably come and confront us in the midst of hoping to make it last forever. It is time for us to return, for my words no longer seem to carry any sense of focus or hopefulness. The games have served their purpose. Our stomachs have been filled and anything else we have wanted was ours for the taking. Maybe I could last a little longer if I did not feel like I was aching to come back to the familiar. Rest has not been like it always has been in the past. I have the impression that I am not the only one looking for a fast reason to rush back to where we dwell. My passion feels drained. My heart feels clouded. We have been missing each other by mere inches far more than either one of us ever agreed to. Yet night is now here. Soon the morning will come, and then we will gather what is ours and follow the signs back home.

.: liberated creatures :.

Those who have truly been set free have nothing left to lose. Yet these are the people that appear to be the largest threat to our so-called way of life, the games we have taught each other to play. They are the ones who have not bought into the lie that says that we must protect ourselves from everything and everyone around us. They are the kinds of people who have been liberated from the perceived need to self-preserve. Their guard is down, for there is nothing worth protecting that can ever be taken away from them. As everyone else works to maintain the "facade of okayness", they are the ones who continually give themselves away in the hopes that others might also find real life. These people carry themselves as ones who can no longer be controlled, not by anything nor by anyone. Their will is set free to do what it was created for. They bear a kind of openness that both draws certain souls out, as well as causes other souls to burrow down even deeper. They cannot be threatened, nor can they be any further exposed than they already sense that they are. Their junk is out there for comment and criticism. They are out in the open. They have let down their guard, though it is not due to any sort of failure or weakness.

Because of all that they have come through, they no longer see the need to keep up their defenses. Maybe this is because they know that One is defending them far better than they could themselves. Who knows? But their courage is rare, their strength is unfading, and their vision is 20/20. They are the ones who have finally learned to listen to their lifetime of mistakes. It now guides them rather than disgrace them as it has in years gone by. They seem disconnected from all attempts to humiliate them, for how can you bring any lower those who inhabit rock bottom. Comfort is a luxury that they gave up on long ago. Their methods are unconventional, and their motives are uncorrupted. They tend to give the impression that they can no longer be exploited for any sort of selfish gain. They have been beaten beyond recognition by circumstances and people, so you must look closely if you hope to find one. Their ability to identify oppression is remarkable. They are well acquainted with the kind of suffering that strips a man or woman of all privilege and means of benefit. While we cower from the world, they walk without restraint among the rest of living. We curse them for their freedom, for we ourselves refuse to be that free. They are unrestrained when it comes to how they express their faith. Though their theology may seem poor, their love for others is haunting. They appear as ones that are moved by grace and hope, rather than fear and safety.

We cannot help but notice their willingness to break down walls that remain between them and their neighbor. Their desires look as if they are deeply rooted in something higher or deeper than themselves. Their humility is anything but false. They allow others to speak (and more often than not, misspeak) about them, knowing that their actions will speak for themselves. They are not worried about being misunderstood, for it is something that they have come to expect after all these years. Their joy is intense, captivating everyone around them. They are wise beyond the mastering of any kind of worldly knowledge. They are clever in a way that cannot be taught in an institution, for their education has cost them their lives. These women and men are souls that grant immense light in our dark world because of how they have allowed the Truth to have its way in their hearts. Yet because we so often do not know what to do with them (out of fear or pride), once we discover such a liberated creature, we either dismiss their light... or do everything within our power to stomp it out completely. Their very freedom threatens our resolution to remain in bondage to our addictions. Nevertheless, as we continue to interact with them, their manner of life remains as a constant invitation to enter into the same sort of living ourselves. The subtle disruptions that they create within our hearts potentially become the catalyst for change in us as well.

.: an ode to the moment :.

If I lost you, my heart would most surely break. I may claim to be strong and think that I would go on, but I know myself. That one thing would certainly change it all. My identity may shift, but nevertheless my whole life would change for good. If I lost you, everything within me would come to a stand still. I would watch myself take slow breaths, and my ears would ring with the sound of an eternal sensation. My hands would freeze and my eyes would lock upon that one thing that I had been glancing upon only moments earlier. I would tell myself that it was bound to happen, but something deep within me would deny that I ever really thought it to be true. The inevitable would come crashing into the perishable. My mind would go to the last time I saw you, racing to find the final words you spoke to me in haste. If I lost you, I would fear beyond so much else the suggestion of returning home. I would find a way to numb myself, all the while begging myself to stay more sober than ever before. I would laugh in a way that I found uncomfortable, followed by tears to drench my anguish. I believe that the ache would begin to creep in, as much as I swore to friends and family that it would be okay. I would curse myself for ever having made myself vulnerable in the first place, while acknowledging that we had what so many only long for. I would claim it as my solitary moment in history, our wonderful life together. If I lost you, I doubt that I could ever seal the tear that I would forever carry inside of me. My loss would change my thoughts, my aspirations, and my principles. Every ideal that had formed within me would come up void, and pieces of me would feel the need to start all over. His voice would calm me, and would refuse to scold my unbelief. Every one would put together their finest speech and I would be the audience to hundreds of souls that really did mean well. The truest beauty would ring hollow and colors would soon fade to gray. Once those words reached my ears, I would struggle at first. Then I would tell myself to let go and not fight it. I would promise to willfully surrender all control over any and every subsequent urge. I would let the full weight of the report hit me, in the hopes that it would soon move on to some other poor soul. If I lost you, life as I know it would remain, but I would bear the will of a man who asks for nothing more. His glory would be noted as accomplished, but all suggestions to trust His hand would be rashly flung aside. I would speak my mind and He would understand my heart. If I lost you, I would wonder what I could have done better, knowing that the days gone by were some of our best. I would rejoice that you were spared from such pain, while offering all that I have to go through it with you one more time. Our friends would support me. Our families would share my lament. We would say our parting words and close the door on chapters of life shared with you. And though years would certainly treat me as fair as one might expect, my soul would long to have its closest friend back. My tears would bear witness to the shattering of once held confidences. My cries would resonate throughout my whole being and I would grasp onto anything that might offer me a firmer grip. If I lost you, my days would be marked with remembrance. My path would seem longer. My pace would feel slower. I would fight to stay present, but would catch myself living in the space that we used to share. And I would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that everything about this was meant to be. Ours were the lives of two souls who communed together, if only for what might one day feel like mere moments.

.: fooled by flattery :.

We all like to hear good things said about ourselves. We all love to be caught up on the latest piece of positive gossip said about "yours truly". We love to love the people that love us. We often allow ourselves the simple pleasure of admiring those that are most sure to do the same in return. When was the last time you had to speak the truth about an enemy, no matter how hard it was to pay them that honest compliment? Yet we will give certain others the benefit of the doubt, assuming that their harsh words to us were really not harsh at all. I guess we just allow them to build up relational collateral through the shared journey, upon which either one of you can draw when the time demands such. There are a number of us who thrive on good words pointed in our direction. We depend upon the language of encouragement, and deal in the same currency with those around us as well. Our exchange of boundless respects and good wishes secure us a place among the well liked. Our acceptance costs us only a few extra kind words, so that we can go on making a name for ourselves. Rather than passing on words of grace, we say what we feel will reap what we so desire; recognition. Recognition for who we are. Recognition for what we do. Recognition for the one thing that apparently sets us apart. There is nothing wrong with blossoming in an encounter with admiration. But we must keep a level head in the face of our proclivity to use our nature or characteristics to edge ourselves above the rest. There is nothing that we have that has not been given to us. Who are you kidding, to say that you have created success by your own sweat and time? Your name is not your own. It was given to you when you were still a child. The role you play is one fashioned for you by community, environment, and circumstances. Sorry to say but your degrees and titles are all a smoke screen, one that you all too proudly crouch behind. You have learned to shelter your true self with rewards and abilities that supposedly put all others at some sort of disadvantage. A deep sadness should arrest our souls, knowing that for all these years we have simply been playing people to get them to say what we have longed to hear. But words far more important and central to our being are yet to be spoken, ones that will identify us as we truly are. Why then are we fulfilled with the glory of dying creatures as dying creatures ourselves? We walk a fine line between sustenance and snootiness. The praise of any given audience is a far too feeble shelter to call our home. So we continue on, receiving every declaration through a heart that knows from where it has come. Our past marks us as recipients of unending mercy, that which surrounds us beyond full view. Take what you are given, but know this. One day you will be told the summation of your life, your values and what you made of what you had. There will be no hiding then. So shouldn't we then teach ourselves to come out of hiding even now? Unfortunately, the ones who won't hear this are the very ones who need to hear it the most!

.: clarifying the compulsion :.

Obsession. The domination of all your thoughts and emotions by one single unrelenting idea. Being endlessly consumed by a certain image or desire. A longing that screams throughout your entire being. Anything that draws you away from what you were previously committed to. Call it a test of your manhood. Call it an examination of your determination. It sinks its roots deep within your heart and fills your mind with hopes of even the slightest satisfaction. It soon learns how to reason with you, breaking down your best defenses. It teaches you how to compromise and cooperate with its agenda. Though you try and try again, you so often find yourself moving closer and offering your life to it. It saps you of any kind of built-up strength. It will side with you as a friend, as well as oblige you as the tyrant that it is. It plays to your longings, only to later overwhelm your attempts to gain control.

You begin to form lesser addictions in the hopes that they will distract you from the one starring you in the face. Each moment at hand is far bigger to you than anyone else around. It costs you every time, though the price seemed strangely worth it at the time. You will suffer through incredible sadness in order to slowly present to others why it bears no threat. You have asked yourself time and again why you place your soul under its burden, yet the answer remains unsaid. Why can you not let this go? No one understands who has not been under its kind of influence. Even the most remote mention of its presence creates a halting silence between you and loved ones. You work to foster it even as friends and family strive to tear it down. You unthinkingly offer it the spare moments of your day, not knowing how it longs to master you. It works its way into your schedule. It plants itself into your beliefs, causing you to delicately word every spoken opinion. It conceals itself under the guise of entertainment, enterprise, or even duty. It causes you to become vigilant about condemning every other instance, providing you the chance to protect your own style of engagement. You pledge subtle rendezvous' once everyone around you grows suspicious. You parade the success it brings to those not yet sold, as if success was license for this inward deterioration. You say this will be the last outbreak. But trust me, you will find a new method, a fresh excuse, or some novel way of scratching the itch. You cannot be reasoned out of it. Reason has nothing to do with times of such enticement. If you were not attracted to it in the first place, you would not be working so hard to preserve it soon after. You foster it in isolation, all the while preaching its dangers to the public. It could be anything.

Too bad the church has given it only a handful of titles. We overlook its nature by giving it a specific shape and size. So many have built up walls against its manifestations, these same people fostering it in seemingly far less sinister forms. We all know the intimate pleasure of giving into it, though we would never expose it beyond any benefit it may subsequently propose to us. The reality is that we desperately need to see it for what it is: a competing threat to all that we already have in Christ. Rework the evidence to your heart's content; you will never get to have it both ways. You must choose for yourself, this day and every one to follow, which one you will strive to offer your whole being to. As you learn to hear the sounds of its disturbance within your spirit, take hold once again of the hope and joy that it thrives on stealing from you. Do not give it even another second's consideration! These moments do not come often, though they happen all the time.

.: always asking :.

Your life has changed greatly...
Will you continue to have faith?
This is not what you were expecting...
Will you continue to have faith?
You never could have seen this coming...
Will you continue to have faith?
This is harder than anything ever before...
Will you continue to have faith?

You have a certain reaction in mind...
Will you continue to have faith?

This is causing you to ask deep(er) questions...
Will you continue to have faith?
This is causing you to question Me...
Will you continue to have faith?
Circumstances are threatening to drown out My voice...
Will you continue to have faith?
Nothing about this feels familiar...
Will you continue to have faith?
You thought you had it all figured out...
Will you continue to have faith?
You thought you had Me all figured out...
Will you continue to have faith?
You have come up short...
Will you continue to have faith?
You are desperate and needy...
Will you continue to have faith?

"I have done and been all these things...

I will choose to continue to have faith in Him."

.: blinding abandonment :.

Do you understand what it feels like to be abandoned? Left with no idea how you will survive the road ahead. Stripped of all sense of confidence and peace. Riddled with fears that you may soon be exposed and made the fool. You who so consistently walk away, leaving me to give explanations that I am not prepared to give. Do you even suspect just what this does to me? To be isolated from the stillness that comes in knowing the truth. No doubt, this could have been cured long ago. We could have arranged for moments such as these. Nevertheless, neither one of us could have known that it would go on for as long as it has. What scares me is how you left with such gracious thoughtlessness. Did you really only consider yourself? The season draws you away from community. Fellowship is shattered by rationalized determination, though the cause is none other than you. Your choices were unexpected, but the results leave me with the greater load to bear. And I suspect that even a finely crafted argument would not keep you from walking away. The separation seems profound from where I stand. Was there honestly nothing you could do? Alarms are going off all around me, as well as deep within. I wish that I did not have to depend upon you. Shall I make provisions for the future? It is a frightening thing to place your trust in another soul, knowing that they can abuse it if they so choose. But I cannot have what lies here without surviving such desertion. I guess I would understand, if only slightly, if you had to go. But this was a verdict delivered by the hands of your own misled desires. And it is causing me to genuinely despise the elements that so often lure you away from here. I had hoped that you would stick it out, that you would remain here and find another way. But your history gives you away as a man who cannot make easy decisions such as these. Shall I mark you with the assertion that you just do not get it? Time will bear witness to these wonderings. Until then, I will find another way to escape being crippled by the loneliness. I will trust in the One who holds me in His hand... knowing that He has allowed you to leave.