I can struggle to reach for the deeper things in life. How can I learn to see past the interactions, events, and days - and see what's really beneath the surface of it all? There is so much on the surface to distract me. My feelings, the ups and downs of the days and weeks, people, and who I am,
all often getting in the way of me being able to see God.

There's so much out there. And I feel as though it's too easy to miss what really matters.

Tears are filling my eyes even as I write, because I'm so exhausted by my blindness. My infatuation with the surface of life. I feel decayed. And not just because it's one in the morning and my body and soul are tired. I'm decayed by all I am, all I've chosen, and all I haven't sought.

Sickened by the things I've been unable to see.

That's all I feel. Simply and honestly. I have no words of hopefulness to write. In this moment, I'm despairing. This doesn't mean I don't trust God, I don't think. But I'm not going to deny how I feel right now, which is a torrent: overwhelmed by life, brokenhearted over many things, and sometimes depressed.

I simply sit in this dark cave, a moment of melancholy, and believe that God is not afraid of my pain or darkness. I choose to have faith in that.

these inexplicable days of mine

Sometimes,

I have these days.

Where an inexplicable hurt pulses inside of me.
It's like all my bad memories have come back.
All the words said, penetrating so piercingly.

And if someone asks, "Are you okay?" - what can I say? Uh, no, not really, but I don't know why.

The tears are hard to hold back at these times. Out they come, hot on my cheeks. If I'm lying down, the tears drip down to my ears. They drip slowly, like hesitant rain.

My insides roil uncontrollably, and I don't have a grip, I have no explanation. Just my past sweeping through, a day where it's so hard to forget.  

Even harder to forgive.

And sometimes, all I can do is pray, knelt on the cold floor.

All I can do is cling to the new day coming.

Living in Ink

I just watched Ocean's Eleven again recently. The team uses a pinch to take out all of Las Vegas' power for thirty seconds to accomplish their heist of a casino. The movie flashes between different scenes - of a crowd watching a boxing fight, shouting, and then suddenly

darkness.

They're all in darkness.

The camera shows the whole city alight from afar, and then you see the millions of lights and flashes. . . wipe out. The whole city sits in darkness.

As I watched, I was struck thinking of every single person in the city experiencing this darkness. Whatever they were doing must have been stopped. Someone could have been getting married, having a baby, or

dying

in that darkness.

Everyone's life was affected. Each situation changed.
A hush could have fallen. Or a scream could rise up in the night.
Pandemonium, chaos,
or silent sobs.
Each person grasping the person next to them, fingers grabbing that skin, the warm skin of someone,
to know they weren't alone.
Whatever happened, wherever they were, they all felt that same darkness.

They were blinded.
Gripped with fear.
And lost.

And as I was thinking it over,
I realized that this darkness. . . it's real.

The whole world is plunged in ink.
Everyone's wandering through their life,
searching,
seeking,
pouring themselves out to find satisfaction.
And not finding it, in the end.

And really, they're all lost.

The reality of it is clear and I want to weep. This truth always strikes me on occasion: that the world is lost. But I so easily forget it. . .

I never want to lose the impact of that truth, God. 

Never. 


Because then I won't be living with the right goals in mind. That passion for the lost is in your heart, I know it. And to follow you, I want to want what you want. To feel your desires pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. Drenching my skin, drumming in my mind, thoughts, emotions. In the core of my being, may your Spirit be present. Alive. Transforming my heart to breathe along with yours.

"Break my heart for what breaks yours. . ." 

This Present Darkness.

I want to share a link to some pictures.
Pictures of the Holocaust.

Not because they're easy to see, not because they're bright and beautiful.

But because they're real.
This was real.

Because I should not ignore such darkness and be ignorant of that horror that occurred not too long ago.
The suffering, the hatred. . .

The pictures are incredibly graphic.

And I think it is important to see them.
It was for me, at least.

It let me feel the reality of it all.
It punched me so hard that I couldn't even cry.
I wanted to puke.

And it helped me to feel so wrenched that I had to go before God, so wordless, so horrified.
Because we've got to see the darkness, got to see it and hate it, especially what's inside of us,
because it makes us long for the day when all is renewed.

So, here it is.

I encourage you to look through them if you think you should,
take your time,
and pray hard.

Guilt Within

Oh God,
cleanse me.
I look inside and all I see is

dirt.

That muck, penetrating so deep, seeping out every crack,
in harsh words and ugly thoughts
jealousies and tears.

I feel
unsavable.

I can't feel the hope I crave,
just hear these words.

When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free.
For God the just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me.

Oh God.
I'm stuck. . . I'm stuck on those first two lines, no further.

Gusts.

Man's praise only goes so far. It can only let me be happy for a minute, elated and joyful for a moment, or even a day, or a week, or years, when I think back on a compliment or a smile and feel a glow, a burst of pride inside of me.

But it doesn't last. No matter how I try, I can't live with joy, trying to keep it up with spurts of love and occasional moments. I can't. I know I try so often. Like a balloon or a plastic bag, getting puffs of air to fill it up, floating along, starting to deflate, sinking, rolling along the ground until another gust comes along to fill it up with shallow happiness that
    isn't
        eternal.

That deflation, sinking, back into the darkness -
it's a miserable feeling.
Hopeless, really.

Because it all can't fulfill the joy I seek and hunger for, the love I was made to know and feel and seek.

I so often forget, and turn back to people around me and myself and sin, I so often forget about people, how they aren't my hope, they aren't who I am made to please.
I was made to worship my King.

It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man.

It is. How blind I become . . . always.

He's my hope. He's my song, the water for my thirsty soul.
God, please never let me forget that.
I don't know what to say, I really don't,

but thank you for reminding me of that tonight.
I love when you open my eyes.
I love you.

Dark clouds

I don't know.

Today and yesterday were both hard.

And I didn't have any good reason.
I mean, there were good reasons that it could have been about, but really my mood relied on just- yeah.

Absolutely no good reason.

I'd find my eyes starting to fill with tears.

I wanted to stay down in the dumps, but I didn't, too.
I was a grump. I was selfish.
I thought about how I was selfish.
I asked God, "Why? Why am I acting like this??"
And I still just couldn't shrug it off.

My day today consisted of me battling between
a silly, happy, light mood,
and this heavy, cloudy one.


A minute ago, I just thought of the words from a song:
"I need you to carry me. I need you to carry me. I need you to carry me. When I am weak. ...I'm always weak."
(Carry Me by Jenny & Tyler)


And that's what I need.
That's how I am.

And I don't really know why I'm sharing this.
But yeah.
Now that the mood's gone, it sounds like nothing. It sounds ridiculous. Not hard.

But it was.
Nothing compared to what other people go through, I know.
But, it surrounded me.
When it was there, I couldn't imagine feeling any joy ever again.
I can't remember. It's gone now. I can't describe it.
But it was awful.

But coming out. Coming out of it, is beautiful. It's like being picked up out of the pit.