Thursday, July 9, 2009
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I need to be humbled. I need to be broken down. I'm so sickened by myself lately. I don't know how to love...people, nature, myself, the Divine. I can't give things up. I can't sacrifice. I need to mend and recreate and better me.
I still want this. More now than ever.
February 5th 2009.
A Letter to the Divine,
There is this deep weight crushing down on my soul tonight.
This feeling burdens me from time to time and is not an abnormal thing...but the walls of my soul are about to give in. It is at these times that I am most afraid. This feeling hits me like a flash of a camera amidst the dark space. The darkness I am surrounded by is the numbness of my soul. Then this light comes so unexpectedly. The flash being the pain, the insecurity, and the fear. It is not the outcome of my life circumstances that I question. It is only this fear of me feeling weak.
"Olives must be crushed to make oil."
I have heard that it is in these times you shape us the most. It is in these times that you speak to us the most. If what "the people" are saying is truth...that scares me. I don't feel like I am growing, I feel like I'm getting smaller. I crave to hear Your voice, but I don't hear the faintest of whispers. But then again...I could be drowning out Your voice with my own. I could be throwing a mask of my own self-pride against Your face that I so earnestly seek. I could be delaying my growth by the weakening and decaying of my smoked filled lungs. Its crazy how such a pathetic plant can bring so much escape. But then again, its no "escape" at all. Its really a life jacket with a pinhole poked into it...providing momentary escape for the time being...only to fail you in the end with no safety at all.
God, I need you to fight for me. Because the life of my soul is at risk. I need you to save me from myself. Break my hands that bring me self-destruction. Pluck out my eyes that search for truth, joy, beauty, and security in all the wrong places. Tear off my ears that listen to the lies of "the people." And break my back so I will not walk so high, and stoop and hang me to the most humble of places.
Deform me into this. Because this "attractive being" that "the people" hold themselves to (and I hold myself to) is starting to loose its allure.
I beg for a healing that comes from deformation...
A Letter to the Divine,
There is this deep weight crushing down on my soul tonight.
This feeling burdens me from time to time and is not an abnormal thing...but the walls of my soul are about to give in. It is at these times that I am most afraid. This feeling hits me like a flash of a camera amidst the dark space. The darkness I am surrounded by is the numbness of my soul. Then this light comes so unexpectedly. The flash being the pain, the insecurity, and the fear. It is not the outcome of my life circumstances that I question. It is only this fear of me feeling weak.
"Olives must be crushed to make oil."
I have heard that it is in these times you shape us the most. It is in these times that you speak to us the most. If what "the people" are saying is truth...that scares me. I don't feel like I am growing, I feel like I'm getting smaller. I crave to hear Your voice, but I don't hear the faintest of whispers. But then again...I could be drowning out Your voice with my own. I could be throwing a mask of my own self-pride against Your face that I so earnestly seek. I could be delaying my growth by the weakening and decaying of my smoked filled lungs. Its crazy how such a pathetic plant can bring so much escape. But then again, its no "escape" at all. Its really a life jacket with a pinhole poked into it...providing momentary escape for the time being...only to fail you in the end with no safety at all.
God, I need you to fight for me. Because the life of my soul is at risk. I need you to save me from myself. Break my hands that bring me self-destruction. Pluck out my eyes that search for truth, joy, beauty, and security in all the wrong places. Tear off my ears that listen to the lies of "the people." And break my back so I will not walk so high, and stoop and hang me to the most humble of places.
Deform me into this. Because this "attractive being" that "the people" hold themselves to (and I hold myself to) is starting to loose its allure.
I beg for a healing that comes from deformation...
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