eight years.

hello, I’m trying to focus but my eyes deceive me / focus — I’m witnessing history repeating.

–Made for TV Movie, Incubus

At about 12:30 am yesterday I thought about it. It being September 7th

And did not think about it again.

In semblance to what the rest of the faith aspect of my life has looked like for the last year and a half. if not more. If not more than the last year and a half, if not more distance. If not more of everything–except closer.

This was last year. And that is the same as my thoughts at present.

But I know I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve anything. I am blessed. I am blessed to be here, to be thriving, to be alive.

You keep healing me in spite of me / opening my heart and killing me for me / bring me back to life, yeah I’m gonna be alright / i got You on my side tonight.

me, october 2010

So, I will say thank You. Thank You for having patience, thank You for giving me hope, and thank You for life. Because I don’t deserve this. At all. And I need to not forget that. I need to worship, I need to love, and I need to live.

Still, two simple words raise from my heart: “Thank You”. Thank You will never be enough, Lord.

Why?

Why can I not see all around me? Feel it? Reach for it? Think about it. Why am I so resistant, so distant?

So emphatic about staying this way? So consistently pushing away from God–the only One I need to be holding on to?

I have woken up in so many ways in the past two years–why not this one, too? Why don’t I feel like I want to try to fix this? Everything that’s kept me . . . made me alive. Why am I, like everything I hate, taking this for granted? My own cynicism is obviously part of the problem–seeing people who also identify as Christians–who frustrate me by their actions of hate. The label process that I try so hard to deviate from. The things that lead me to change the Religious Views section on Facebook so many years ago from “Christian” to “I worship JESUS”.

Jesus. He’s who it’s all about. And maybe, instead of trying to wrap my head around everything that the mess that is “religion” is . . . I should just focus on who HE is first.

I want to reach forward.

But even when I do . . . I still have to open my hands.

court is in session, a verdict is in / no appeal on the docket today, just my own sin / the walls cold and pale, the cage made of steel / screams fill the room: alone i drop and heal / silence now the sound / my breath the only motion around / demons cluttering around / my face showing no emotion / shackled by my sentence, expecting no return / here there is no penance, my skin begins to burn

so i held my head up high / hiding hate that burns inside / which only fuels their selfish pride / all held captive up from the sun / the sun that shines on only some / we the meek are all in one

i hear a thunder in the distance / see a vision of a cross / i feel the pain that was given on that sad day of loss / a lion roars in the darkness: only He holds the key / a light to free me from my burden and grant me life eternally. / should have been dead on a sunday morning, banging my head. / no time for mourning, ain’t got no time. / should have been dead on a sunday morning, banging my head. / no time for mourning, ain’t got no time.

i cry out to God, seeking only His decision / gabriel standing confirms i create my own prison

i created, i created, i created, i created, i created my own prison . . .

should have been dead on a sunday morning, banging my head. / no time for mourning, ain’t got no time.

my own prison, creed

I create my own prison.

And I’ve been freed. I only have to walk outside of this.

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