Heart
Cry
At times it would simply be easy to throw in the
towel. After all that I have been through, the heart has a few black eyes, and
bruises to match. It has taken more 1-2 punches than Glass Joe from Mike
Tyson's Punch-Out. Its legs are like jelly only holding on by sheer force of
will. A belief that tomorrow...tomorrow will be the day the sun shines again
and the nightmare will end. A ‘pinch me so I know that I am living in a reality
where the skies are no longer black, but full of color’. Yet, the state of my
heart is so tattered, weary, and abused at the moment. But, I find that I am
okay with the way it is currently. I am fine that I can acknowledge that I am
not okay. Though I am making things work externally, I know there is about to
be a major surgery concerning my heart. My beat up heart is also quite
calloused, thick like the hide of a rhinoceros, and as un-forgetting as an
elephant. Though decked out in the combat gear, man this poor heart looks as if
it has been on a tremendous battlefield for the past months with not a moment
of reprieve. Weapons dull, ammunition dwindling to the last dozen rounds, armor
dinged up with parts missing, it is a wonder that a heart such as this has
lasted this long. Then I remember that this heart is a war veteran. It’s because
of its experience that it has managed to survive for so long. Yet, if all that
this heart is living for is survival, then it might just be good to call it
quits. The promise wasn't to simply survive. The promise was to thrive and
become something altogether wonderful. This isn't what was promised. Where are
the reinforcements...the rest of the troops to help take territory???
Sobering
Thoughts
Left with many questions this writer simply pauses
to wonder...what is really going on? Where do I go from here? Is this really
the path laid out for me or have I wandered into an unknown territory not meant
for me. Yet, it was a quiet voice that beckoned me out of my comfort into this
distant unknown. It was a familiar friend that said come with me as we go on
the adventure of a life time. I could have said no at any point, but being
captivated by the thought of an adventure, I decided to launch out to do
something that I have never done before. I am not regretting that decision, but
I wonder if I made the best choice. Not wanting to back out from the adventure,
but simply wanting to know if I am in over my head currently. I have never been
in so many fierce battles consecutively. Emotionally, physically and
spiritually, I feel run down and sore. I have had Mach battles in times past,
but this is something totally different. I do not like war. I do not like
bloodshed. I do not like seeing how badly people can get beat up. But more than
anything I hate the fact that it has exposed just how much I really do not know
how to love well. I am not going to go on condemning myself; it is just hard
when you realize you do not know how to love well. Seeing the holes and
weaknesses is something that I can never really get used to. It is sobering but
at the same time just frustrating. Especially when you feel that you should be
farther along than what is being revealed. What does one begin to do though?
Questions, There are just so many freaking questions.
The
Sound
Midnight strolls, gazing at the stars...a breath
taking sight to behold. In a moment in time all of creation seems to stand
still as if to wait for the next word I would speak. Yet, only silence filled
the atmosphere. In awe, was I. The moments that followed only served to remind
me that my presence in this place was much more necessary that what I had first
understood. City life, full of busyness, people always needing something to do
otherwise boredom set in. Yet, country life was a total change of pace. I found
that I could meander a bit. My walk became a saunter. It seemed as if the
country carried within it, a rhythm all to itself. Though most of
the time it is not perceptible to those who are used to a fast paced existence.
Yet, as we begin to slow down, awareness begins to take over and fragile
details that we would usually crush by our clumsiness become more apparent.
Beautifully intricate, they begin to captivate and bring us into a reality that
is uncommon.
Life
Have you caught a glimpse of it yet, of true
reality? Space and time bending at ones will. Subtle shifts in lighting
revealing secrets of epic proportions. Convinced of what we seeing being what
is, but there lies the fallacy. Taught to believe the lie…groomed to follow a
mold mindlessly as if the brain had been put in a comatose state never to be
activated again. However, somewhere in the dream like haze a brilliance of
untold magnitude appeared altering perception and bringing life to that which
was lifeless. The veritable light bulb had been switched on within the brain.
An illumination was finally happening…a being was finally coming alive. What
was this being coming alive too, though?
Lurking
Shadows
Secrets, long held secrets, buried secrets, secrets
veiled in darkness. Yes, longing to be left alone. Raspy voices all hissing as
vipers to be left undisturbed. Shadows, menacing figures, on the backdrop of
the imagination all fighting for dominance. It is the almighty lens from which
they can direct the course of the future. Much like Smeagles ‘precious’ this is
one lens that rules them all. For years these invisible invaders have held
captive the maiden of destiny. How long she has struggled to be free only to be
captured time and time again. Never one to give up hope, patiently she waited
for her time. No one could have guessed that it would come as a suddenly. But
brilliance has shown forth from the distance marking the exposure of the nasty
shadowy invaders. What looked like ancient mythical beast such as the hydra,
Minotaur, and even the great sphinx, showed forth to be nothing more than illusions
created by tiny creatures. The maiden of destiny was held captive by small
creatures that had barks that could strike terror into the soul…but had nothing
to back up the bark. Had the lights been turned on sooner, they would have been
exposed sooner. How foolish the warrior feels as he realizes that for years he
had been thwarted by these tiny bits of insignificance. He realizes, there is
nowhere to go from here but straight into the heart of where these little
buggers had been seated.
Seat
of Power
Only
the truest of warriors understands the meaning of stepping foot on hallowed
ground. Even so, to the jaded, it’s a feeling that becomes unbearable.
Unworthiness sets in, becoming a weight unbearable. Every step towards the
center seems to add a few more tons to the already huge load being carried.
Guilt it crushes, as the inexplicable beauty captivates and dazzles the senses.
Awe overwhelms as tears of grief and shame begin to crash forth, a tidal wave
of bitter regret. Even so, an invisible force somehow compels forward motion.
Step after heavy step is taken…in the distance you see it. It radiates an other
worldly essence. It is attractive, inviting, yet calming to gaze upon. The
light that shines forth would be blinding yet, in this place, vision is strengthened.
Before, the heart can come to its senses hands…holy hands…divine hands are
lifting the load from the shoulders of the weary warrior. Eyes trying to adjust
to this new found clarity only to be stopped in his tracks as his gaze becomes
locked and fixated on the King, who is now face to face with him. All at once
everything is silent, save the guttural cries of the warrior. There is a hushed
silence as this valiant warrior weeps. The King with his authority exclaims,
‘welcome home, your throne is there.’ With one gesture, he points to the
radiantly glowing seat. ‘We have been expecting you. Now the party can really
start.’ The warrior could not stop weeping because when he looked at the King,
he could see himself. For in fact…the King was Him, but not Him. He knew who
the king was but could not help but see himself inside of the king. All at once
he know…he was in the most important place he had ever been. He was in the
personal chambers of the King. The King himself has prepared a special place of
honor for him. The King had delivered on what he had promised. Yet,
all this warrior could do was weep as he realized how loved he was.
