Music is a sign of a thriving culture. We celebrate ancient cultures that made instruments and imagine their concerts and the human creative drive that made them want to create and manipulate sounds in such a way that it becomes an outlet for emotion and thought. 2020 stole our concerts. This is a short lament about wondering if we’re thriving. It’s me calling out my past self for not traveling when I could.
Fire surges through me and I want to her to know my disgust. I am ashamed of her and I want her to feel it. But I say nothing because she’s too far gone and my vocabulary isn’t enough. I let this old woman, who has never supported me anyway, go on her way and I hope she feels dirty. She’s the one who, I think, is beyond hope. So why does that hopelessness stay with me instead of following her?
… He tells me that I’m crawling through the darkness of the world instead of looking at Him, the Light of the World. He reminds me that I’m supposed to be a light bearer.
I’m convicted, and I welcome it.
You’re silent while so much soul blinding, nerve numbing, intelligence dumbing is sweeping through unchecked. It’s a dark cloak in a sleeping orphanage. It’s a heavy, light-blocking spirit. Like a virus, it has gone through halls of your life, the corridors of your churches, and switched off every light in your classrooms. And the grief I’m feeling is that you’re still in there going through the motions like you didn’t notice the change.
I’ve learned this: In the face of uncertainty, most people will stand there and wait for someone else to go first. They want to see if it’s safe and if the other person makes it across. Leaders are the ones who go first.
This territory was past the point of faith I actually have. I think this is the precipice of something “other”.
Acknowledging that God is leading you is the best way to stay out of your own way. It’s also the best way to get over feeling disappointed with the confusing road blocks and closed doors in your path.
Because I’ve messed up so severely in my life, I don’t claim a right to much of anything. Nobody owes me. However, I do know that God has given me the gift of grace. I know it so deeply that I can move about freely, without the shame of remembering what I did and without the fear that God is going to punish me. It’s only recently that I’ve started entertaining the idea that God may want to build something cool in my life and have me be the caretaker of it.
The thought of years of working really hard, investing a huge chunk, and then hoping I was doing it right and not wasting my time while someone was adding their percentage of my hard-earned money to their own income made me feel frustrated.
I’m floating in seas that terrify me, further and further away from the shore. Ancient swells meant for ships surround me. Depths glittered by sunlight. When I panic I drink salt, but when I float I’m helpless. I’m here because of faith and I’m ashamed to tell you how many times I wondered if I would be happier if I had stayed on shore.