(question from Papa)
Communication is very important. I don't like people getting close and that relationships, community, and family are tough work. Each is worth every second though. Community without Christ is a recipe for contention, drama, and fight or flight responses. Walking is good, not just for physical health, it gives time to talk with You and be at peace inside. Your love is kind always. Trust in You, Period. Desert seasons are tough, but the change is great. Ohana....... Aloha Spirit. The people in the Oregon area you put me around are part of my 'community'. Broken, youth, Your Bride changed to be Your bride is Your heart. Just because its scripture doesn't mean its You! Be content where ever; You are there!
***************************************************************************************
Fight of Da Loneliness
No more, the emptiness
Filled with light and acceptance
Still more, nightmares
Hopes and dreams abound
Floating through a void
a soul wanders lost
until the day comes
when the Guide leads them home
Living in love, cups running over
hopelessness pushes, walls move
Dancing with Mercy, the chair is prepared
death waits, waiting, waiting
Floating through a void
a soul wanders lost
until the day comes
when the Guide leads them home
Gems flow forth, rubies and diamonds
wounds driven deep, ever thirsty
wrath poured out down to the last
innocence prevails, reigning
candles burning brightly with the greyness of mystery. a mystery only revealed by One true and bright.
Showing posts with label Loneliness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loneliness. Show all posts
16 September 2008
26 December 2007
Treatsie on Companion
A man is walking down a hallway, pictures lining both sides of the walls. This hallway has been paced many times before, always alone, the pictures never change. Sorrow fills the hallway with sound as pain paints the floor like a carpet.
But You were always there
The pictures showing things of the past, things that once were, things that could have been, things that should have been, things that never will be. Do you believe? a voice echoes out of seemingly nowhere, but everywhere. The man continues to pace, not noticing.
But You were always there
The man has some new pictures on the walls now, but still nothing. His steps slow now as the man has not rested, ever. His feet drag over to the closet to grab a hammer, that he can barely move. Taking it to some of the pictures, he swings, nothing breaks. Over and over again for hours, trying to smash the pictures to no avail. Wearily he drops the hammer and slumps against the wall to the floor, sobbing.
But You were always there
Barely rising, the man walks again up and down the hall, dragging, crawling on his belly, like the worm he feels. Sometimes stopping to look at a picture, then continuing, still weeping. Barely able to move anymore the man pulls up and down the hallway on the carpet of anguish, surrounded by sorrow. Do you believe?
But You were always there
Noticing the question this time, the man tries to squeak an answer, but no moisture is left. He is less than a skeleton; moving onward, the man tries to talk, but nothing comes out. Now frustration sets in. With a new vigor, this ghoul of what was pulls through the hallway.
But You were there
Do you believe? The man tries to scream, Yes! But it is still not working. Finally he gives up, waiting for it to all come crashing down and to have it over. He breaks all his bones and grinds them to dust.DO YOU BELIEVE?! Now thunders through the hallway. The man, broken, just nods his head and cries, but no tears remain.
But You were there
Light floods the hallway, shaking, shattering all the pictures. The walls cave in, the roof falls down, and the floor splits apart. All the man can now see is light, then finally darkness.
But You were there
Asleep at the end of a hallway in which a door stands at one end, a baby lies at the other sleeping, peacefully.
but You were there,
beside me,
Always.
But You were always there
The pictures showing things of the past, things that once were, things that could have been, things that should have been, things that never will be. Do you believe? a voice echoes out of seemingly nowhere, but everywhere. The man continues to pace, not noticing.
But You were always there
The man has some new pictures on the walls now, but still nothing. His steps slow now as the man has not rested, ever. His feet drag over to the closet to grab a hammer, that he can barely move. Taking it to some of the pictures, he swings, nothing breaks. Over and over again for hours, trying to smash the pictures to no avail. Wearily he drops the hammer and slumps against the wall to the floor, sobbing.
But You were always there
Barely rising, the man walks again up and down the hall, dragging, crawling on his belly, like the worm he feels. Sometimes stopping to look at a picture, then continuing, still weeping. Barely able to move anymore the man pulls up and down the hallway on the carpet of anguish, surrounded by sorrow. Do you believe?
But You were always there
Noticing the question this time, the man tries to squeak an answer, but no moisture is left. He is less than a skeleton; moving onward, the man tries to talk, but nothing comes out. Now frustration sets in. With a new vigor, this ghoul of what was pulls through the hallway.
But You were there
Do you believe? The man tries to scream, Yes! But it is still not working. Finally he gives up, waiting for it to all come crashing down and to have it over. He breaks all his bones and grinds them to dust.DO YOU BELIEVE?! Now thunders through the hallway. The man, broken, just nods his head and cries, but no tears remain.
But You were there
Light floods the hallway, shaking, shattering all the pictures. The walls cave in, the roof falls down, and the floor splits apart. All the man can now see is light, then finally darkness.
But You were there
Asleep at the end of a hallway in which a door stands at one end, a baby lies at the other sleeping, peacefully.
but You were there,
beside me,
Always.
Tension of Loneliness
A man walks to his car from his house, feeling out of place in that house.
He gets into his car, driving down the road thinking that something else has to be wondering where he is going.
He pulls into a parking lot, gazing out his wondering; feeling alone and that not many understand.
Walking through the park, passing through the crowds of people, the many families, couples, and individuals, yet not being connected to any of them.
This man, cries out for them all from his inner most being, praying and hoping that they would know the One that fills that loneliness, the One that shows everlasting love, the One that is relentlessly pursuing us as we pursue vapor.
How do we find fellowship with the blind when we see, how do you relate the color red to someone that has never seen; how do we share love to people that don't know what it truly is and when confronted with it, RUN?
In a place where sorrow and joy meet, where peace and war, love and hate, order and chaos, balanced and unbalanced, devoted and lethargic, somewhere in there, this tension, do we find what is being sought after, that which completes who we are; only one answer remains, the answer that has been and will be rejected right up until the sky is split.
He gets into his car, driving down the road thinking that something else has to be wondering where he is going.
He pulls into a parking lot, gazing out his wondering; feeling alone and that not many understand.
Walking through the park, passing through the crowds of people, the many families, couples, and individuals, yet not being connected to any of them.
This man, cries out for them all from his inner most being, praying and hoping that they would know the One that fills that loneliness, the One that shows everlasting love, the One that is relentlessly pursuing us as we pursue vapor.
How do we find fellowship with the blind when we see, how do you relate the color red to someone that has never seen; how do we share love to people that don't know what it truly is and when confronted with it, RUN?
In a place where sorrow and joy meet, where peace and war, love and hate, order and chaos, balanced and unbalanced, devoted and lethargic, somewhere in there, this tension, do we find what is being sought after, that which completes who we are; only one answer remains, the answer that has been and will be rejected right up until the sky is split.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
View In
Posts
All Comments