In which Heart must make a Choice

It is so easy to let my mind wander down the road called Ungrateful. It's the natural one, my tendency. The path is smooth and it's like my feet are made to walk there. I'm magnetized, drawn, following. So easy to wander, pleasant to forget, relaxing. I don't have to fight to stay here. I don't have to resist. I can just be conformed; no transformation necessary here. It's an effortless road and the pathway is worn shiny from the frequency of my travel on it. It's a well-worn avenue and (my) Heart holds it in familiarity. It holds it in high esteem. It thinks that Ungrateful is home because that's all it knows, that's all it has ever chosen.

Heart has had a few experiences away from the road called Ungrateful. There's this other path, you see. But its flavor is entirely different.

Heart noticed that immediately when she timidly ventured upon it. It was a bit more unfamiliar, somewhat rockier, definitely skinnier and thus easier to fall away from. Heart's footsteps were hesitant, but she continued on. And once she traveled farther than she ever had before, her pulse quickened. She stopped, realizing she was breathing more deeply than she ever had before, living more fully, and touching the Creator more closely than she had ever done in her existence. And it was so freeing, revealing, enlightening, empowering!

That was her first time.

But she forgot, you see. Heart has a tendency to do so. It was slightly scary, this new road. It required boldness and it alienated her from all the rest. For she had never seen anyone else walk this road. It made her different. Alone, she thought. So she turned back, returned to the arms of Ungrateful. She was quickly enveloped in the ease of Ungrateful, her 'true home', and her new sight hastily faded.

Every once in a while, Heart would gasp in the middle of the night. For a split second she saw that she was sitting in darkness. A rut, even  
a tomb.
A flash of lightning and she remembered:
I'm lost. This is not where I ought to be.

And so she would run away that night, before Ungrateful could notice she was missing. She would dive back onto the gravelly road named Grateful, and remember. She became alive again, aflame with the Holy Spirit.

But always, her cravings would kick in by noon the next day. She couldn't live without Ungrateful, she just couldn't! How could she have thought she could be rid of him for good? He owned her. And Grateful felt too good to be true.

Heart would always return.

As time goes on, though, Heart's expeditions onto Grateful get slightly longer. And she is beginning to taste the true bitterness of life with Ungrateful.

Let's just pray that she'll make it home in the end.

* * *

This story/metaphor just appeared, floating up as I wrote. I know the road names are a bit cheesy, overly obvious, and totally not subtle (even if good metaphors ought to be subtle). But now that I read over it, I think how the roads could be differently named. Maybe Life and Death, or Truth and Lies. Put in what you choose and it may become more meaningful, even more relevant to you personally. Those names just happen to be what I was originally thinking on and I'm just choosing to leave it unrevised.