Unafraid.

This may be silly, but these days I have been very saddened by how quickly time goes by.

I remember the days when anticipation was strong, seasons were long, and waiting was hard. And each moment felt infinite.

But now, life is slipping through my fingers.

And this terrifies my soul. It makes my heart grow cold, like I've stood out in the rain for too long.

I only remember this every once in a while, and each time it's a rude awakening. And isn't it bad, maybe, if the passing of time makes me fear?

Shouldn't I,
redeemed by the blood of the Lamb, 
be-

fearless?

Dissatisfied with life, unafraid of death, gloriously lost and consumed in the hope of the eternity to come. . .

Still, I often find the the doubts I shoulder and fears I confess help me to keep my faith real. They keep me asking for answers of God. I'm not going to mutter my prayers or lie by saying I am confident in the Lord.

No.

I'm broken.

My roots are born out of fear.

And some days, the only thing that keeps me from sinking
is the promise that God loves a broken and contrite spirit. That, he will not deny.

I am weary of who I am and all the jagged edges of my faith.

But God does not faint or grow weary. Not he. I don't have to bear a burden. His yoke is easy. In him I will find rest for my soul. He offers me life abundant.

So, in the peace he instills,
I want to slow down.

Savor the moments.

And even if time does slip by, even then?

I have nothing to fear. 

For all my wounds, faults, and jagged edges are nailed to a tree.

asking Him to change the channel of my heart

Wasting time.


It's no big deal, right? I tell myself.

It's too easy. When I'm sitting down to the computer or plopping in front of the TV,
how effortless.
And in the moment, it all appears harmless. Hey, I've got nothing to do. I'm tired. What's the problem?

And pretty soon any nagging from my conscience or nudging from the Holy Spirit is drowned by my disobedience. All too soon am I calloused.

To clarify, I'm not saying that relaxing, having down time, watching a movie, or anything of that sort is sinful. I know I need a lot of down time in order to function well and I am someone who does not thrive on a busy schedule. When I say disobedience, I am referring to my specific situation: God has asked me to acknowledge my laziness, dethrone these specific idols, and come meet with Him.

And, time and time again, I have ignored his chiding. Blatantly refused the invitation I have to go into his presence.

I want to say that it never felt blatant. It was each a small choice and each time- each time it felt like nothing wrong.

But stack everything up and-

I am a sinner. A grimy, chronic sinner. I'm supposed to be living by the Spirit. But aren't I just giving into my flesh, day in and day out?

And oh how I want to want true repentance. I want to have the strength to do a 180 degree turn. But oh I don't. I'm stuck and the barbs of flesh, desire, and sin are rooted deep. Reaching in and wrapped around my pulsing, beating heart. I'm incapable. I'm blind to what I'm doing. My habits are engrained. I'm disgustingly lazy. I'm a sunken ship, buried and lost in the waves I gave myself up to long ago.

All I have left is a whisper. That I may want to want change. It's so faint, this whisper not even past my lips.

But my God hears even the smallest of whispers. All one needs is a mustard seed and the very mountains are uprooted.

So let us all whisper our prayers for him to make us holy.

letting go

Things never play out like you imagine.

And that's real hard for me to swallow sometimes. Like a jagged stone, gritting in my throat.

My mind plays scenes, you see. What's to come, what's been done and spoken. What I should have said, what I will speak. I have many plans for the future and regrets for the past.

I feel helpless when I perceive reality:
life is not in my hands.

How tangibly terrible, frightening, and
immense,
that is.


Oh, but let me remind:
it's beautiful too. 

Wildly beautiful, daringly exciting, and sublimely intoxicating.

This unknown, when you face it squarely-

you are freed.

Freed to trust and learn. You don't have to walk on your own anymore, when all you did was stumble. You are freed to make mistakes and acknowledge your weakness and honest place. Let go, place all your plans into the basket where they belong. Give up your worry; it was a waste of time anyways. Live boldly, falling into the warm, scarred hands that hold the world up. You never knew what you were doing. You just don't have to pretend any longer.

. . .I don't have to pretend any longer. And though I forget and fall back into my habits of playing scenes and end with a fresh faucet of bitterness and disappointment flowing, I am caught by the one who is not bound by time. He's not bound by what man is.

So let me run, free. Not like people in pictures, with the wind in their hair, rebelliously beautiful and confident in their youth. No, I will will run, drunk on the Holy Spirit, ugly and broken and bruised

yet free to the core.

Freed by those beautiful hands holding me.

Awaken me.

Sometimes I awaken. Get the glimpses of truth, the epiphanies, the divine ripping away of blindness. God peeling away those selfish layers like a curtain holding out the light. And I see.

I can see.

Light flashes bright. A shock for my eyes accustomed to the dark of the world. 

And in that moment, I see the ashes of my life and of this world. I see it for what it truly is in the exposure: futile.

It’s nothing. All those trivial things only hinder me and blind me.

But as that moment of enlightenment begins to fade, I stop striving and start sliding.

Sliding back.

Back, with eyes hypnotized. Believing these worldly things are like shimmering pearls. The illusion crawls back up, tricking my heart, and it’s only when the trumpet will sound that the pearls will fade before my eyes. And that’s when the sickening dread and regret will crash over me.

When it’s too late.

And I don’t want that to happen to me.

Partly because of plain old fear. Maybe it’s the wrong motivation, but. . .

I just, God-

I never.

Never.

Want to lose eyes for eternity.

May your Spirit reign in me so thick that I can never forget. Never lose sight, flush away purpose and time. This life is a vapor, disappearing in the wind. And there’s not much time, not much time. You’re at the door. May a holy haste and urgency press on my heart at all moments. May your presence be so near me, so thoroughly meshed with my heart that I’m always striving, yearning, acting. May I be bold.

Because the time’s short. It’s so short.

And I don’t want to awake when it’s too late.