Do you hear me!? Do you cry out with me!? Do you truly understand pain you world so confused and centered on self!?
Do you really see those that you are crushing in your path on your way for screaming out for rights, freedom, liberty, and happiness!?
Does it really take a life-shaking, earth-moving, evil diabolical plot from the pit of hell itself to shake the bones lying dead on this earth!?
I have recently just picked back up the "pen" to journal my soul to you. It is a very hard thing for most to even journal. I know it it hard to see my words of hate, jealousy, prejudice, malice, ill-will, grace, mercy, redemption, repentance, and love pour out onto white paper; but unlike the tongue running rampant all over the place and verbally vomiting everywhere there is something final, something solid, something contemplative, something carved into this life that cannot be erased when you write your thoughts and actions down with a pen.
It's almost as if you are writing out to the endless beyond, and Someone will see your heart. Your heart will be laid open and bare and raw for you, yourself to see who you really are! This broken, battered, bruised, totally unrecognizable creation in the mirror who you never thought you would become.
It has been a time of quiet, a time of just stopping, a time of sitting next to the river bank watching the world wash by me after all of my broken pieces were washed up on the shore.
I have found solace in a time of rest and rethinking who I am, and what I am.
The brokenness of my heart has recently been pointed out to me. I have been fumbling around so much in the dark on that river bank trying to stitch myself back together. Trying to reconcile who I am with myself. Trying to see what is it about this world that hates me. Why are so many eating away at my soul, my flesh, my heart?
Glistening, New, Quiet...Peace
And then...Light burst forth in the most unexpected ways.
Like that first light that hits a new day covered in soft mist and frost.
...Glistening, New, Quiet...
An untouched layer of blessing to bind the wounds broken beneath.
Reality check we are to be broken off and give back. Give back to where we came from; that lowliest of places...dirt.
Love wholly and fully with no reservations because where I am going, where that river flows for me at the end I will be made new and whole. All of my patchwork pieces cannot leave a legacy of hurts, mended fences, and broken bridges unless I leave them on the path to where maybe just one person will find the legacy and have enough courage and faith to follow it.
Without pieces of me breaking off and littering my path there is no love left for anyone.
No marker.
No lamp post.
No trail.
No anything really of a legacy worth leaving.
Life's warriors I cry out to you!
You who are beaten and battered.
You who are forsaken.
You who cry out with deep wounds.
You who cry out to the deep awaiting a response.
Patience...the answer?
Be patient your answer will come.
I cry out to you to not be afraid of the battle that wages around you. No matter how turbulent the water becomes I cry out to you to not loose courage no matter the cost. The only thing to fear is if you say to your Creator and your King when it is all said and done....but it was too hard my King, the enemy was too powerful, there were too many of them.
You, oh warrior, be an honorable one to your King.
Be one that can humbly kneel and say, for you I fought and for you I have bled, and for you I have given all because in spite of it all, You gave Your all to me.
On my path in this life I have been called to march each morning when I rise and to repent each evening as I lie down.
I want my march to be a daily one.
One that goes before me in truth.
One that leaves behind me a path of love and legacy.