breaking the silence

Approaching you can be very difficult sometimes. I run and hide and cover my face with crimson hands, shameful because I know how undeserving I am and how much I fall short. Yet you inspire me with a gentle whisper in a silent drive, on a radio station I never listen to. Even though I resist constantly in this ongoing battle, split down the middle knowing which way leads to life but still cheating myself, putting my hope in things and especially people… that won’t fill me, let me down, break my heart, will pass away, and most of all, are completely unreliable.

Yet you never change, and are always dependable. Even if I have nothing else I have you, and I am spurred on to dream by you the ultimate dreamer. But it’s not about me, this pitiful, sickly, and self centered kind of plea and a determined effort and selfish desire to be right with you is not found anywhere in your character. The fact that I am trying, by my own effort to help myself is actually a sign that I’m rebelling against the accomplished fact, what you have already done for me, the absolute gift. Am I humble enough to accept it? I have to surrender my rights and demands, and cease from every self effort and leave my life alone completely in your hands and not mine. How long is it going to take until I’m free from this unhealthy habit if thinking about myself? The only place where I am right with you is in you. You say such simple things like “come to me” Do I really want to get there? Am I foolish enough? I can right now if I want, even in the midst of this deficiency. You know just how far the east is from the west, from one scarred hand to another. What would I do without you? What would I be without grace? Even though I struggle, I am free. Instead of sitting there and surveying me and thinking about what I can “do” to cure myself you just run to me and accept me for me immediately and without consultation. I know you will get me out of bed – out of my listlessness and exhaustion, and out of my condition of being half dead while I am still alive. You penetrate with life and sustain by the perfection of vital activity. It is not suffering after all, rather majestic vitality.

impractical daydreamer | journalist | creative writer | photographer | blogger | hopeless romantic | world nomad | truth seeker | perpetual adventurer

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