Welcome Home.

Daybreak. A burst with which I can relate. Morning's true colors filling the Earth from a palette where His blood sits. To see the sky is to become guilty of witnessing His grace paint your moments as you stand before a question. Yes, a question. What of me now? These four words I whisper towards my ceiling every night before closing my eyes and drifting off again. What of me now, my Lord, my Savior and Sustainer? I remember writing a song once asking God if life would be better blind; blind to temptation and colorblind from the redness of sin. The next morning I awoke to my bedroom filled with warmth and light, and outside was a visage of lush greens and blues like that from a postcard. Clarity fell upon knowing that we have to see sin so that we may render it useless to our breath and prepare ourselves for His use. Would you ever use a cracked, chipped, severely withered brick as part of a house's foundation? Would He use our tainted spirits to advance His kingdom? No, but He would call those same spirits home. What of me now, God? How I long to be moved by You in Your name and in Your progression. How I long for Your words and passion to burn through me and signal to those who stray from the path. How I long to have sin feel uncomfortable around me. I'm willing. So willing to die to myself. This life is but a breath in eternity - and up until now I have been welling off of my lungs. Severing so many attempts to ignite. Feeding a wound over my heart and my faith. God, I have been running from you. What if I still am? What if I am still running? Bring me back to this, as if I were with You all along. I'm sorry and You have forgiven me before the prayer ever left my lips, or enetered my mind for that matter. You forgave me before I was even born. And as I wronged so many rights in life's womb and made a mockery of this flesh, I drove the nails. I maimed You upon the cross. My intentions were no different than a murderer's. But You withstood my feeble beating until my hands became bloodied and violet. Until tears were shed upon those hands as I looked to who I so flagrantly punished. All You wanted was the best of me, but I gave You my worst, dirtiest, and ugliest. And as I looked to You with swollen eyes and clinched fists of remorse, I dropped to my knees. You smiled and spoke one word.

"Finally."

What of me now. Tomorrow can never again scare me for I am not bound to this Earth. I am bound to Christ. Its in the blood. Its in the air. Its just outside your window pane. The steam proves the heat. The echo proves the sound. Creation proves the creator. 'Cataracts in the eyes of faith' - pretty accurately describes who I was and never will be again. He wants me awake for this. I want to prove that this life is for Him. I want to fight to prove I'm right. To go and make Disciples. Honor in my step, in my tongue, and my acts. Hold me accountable, whoever you are. Its time to wake up.




So upon waking up - good morning to You, my Daylight :]

The Nemesis is Amphibious.

Surrounded by an ocean, broad with problems and filled with creatures of panic and born from breached insecurities. Salt enters the wound with a burn and as I try to make a sound I merely see my own breath. No ships approach. The shore is far out of view and I can only plead silence as I bide my time upon kicking away my last few breaths to stay afloat. Swamped. Suffocated by stresses entering like pills, but detested like poison. So which is it? Do problems break me to remind me I am alive or are they trying to settle me into a shallow grave? Buoyancy is simple until you sink so slightly beneath the line. You take on water faster than you would ever believe, and sooner than later feelings leave your fingertips. The blue will take me over and choke me with the very fabric that I wove as I carried a string from my pocket all along, wandering a twisted and beaten path until the whole sought to cover me. Dragged under, sent below, dropped down, hurt... A deafening crash of waves holding me amidst prehistoric vice and calling me back to sea.

You know, this seems oddly depressing.
However, it really doesnt have to be.
Because I don't tread the ocean water...
I stand on dry land.

I see things waking offshore, but I remain centered in the calm before the storm. I stopped running from the tide so long ago because in the end, all meaning is lost. We all return to the water's edge eventually. Every human hears that side calling and drags themself so miserably back. But wether or not we dip our feet or saturate ourselves in that liquid enemy remains our choice. Grace has been saved. I can sigh with relief because I find the strength by taking His hand to remain grounded. He gives me friends and family to depend on, and they show me that I can finally focus beyond the man who promises safer waters. Looking closer, he rolls those eyes. Never once did the Savior hint at doubt. No safer sea exists. Enemies make no sense. They only make shame and foolish covers to the shame. Don't drink that water. Embibe what you were meant to fill yourself with all along and turn to the cup He is offering you.

If you're ever too weak to move,
maybe you need reminding that you are His creation.
Above you and I, between His and ours,
a mirror allowing His reflection.

A bright reflection in all of us, against the black water's surface.

Emotion on the Rise.

You can't refuse truth. Or, at least, I couldn't. The truth pours forth out of me as freely as it comes to mind. Never before did your reaction to the truth affect how I handled it. This, however, is so different. Holding these words has begun to diminish outer thought. It limits what I can breathe in. It incubates a shy nervousness that sleeps so deeply within me that I forgot it even existed. But to feel it beneath my skin is so reassuring. Refreshing. Emotion on the rise. I interrogate this emotion so thoroughly that it begins to swell and bruise. But it came so quick. I know now that it was effortless, so effortless to feel this way about you. Something of your essence completes a piece of the mural with vibrant color. I wanted to make sure that the notion wasn't where the answer was held. All along I knew that it had long before evolved through notion and into occurrence. You are wanted, and you are beautiful. Our lips - they brush having our innards just blended, and the touch becomes so powerfully chemical and compelling. What I love about you has always remained the same. Do you know what you do to me? You make me smile. Not only that, you affix a smile to every part of me.

I was afraid of being the one-sided. You told me not to worry. I questioned, but you answered. And now I can't get you out of my head. I guess it was written nearly two years ago - you're supposed to be there. I love you.

Good Riddance.

I milked the other side for all it was worth. he told me it was okay, but He told me otherwise. I listened to the voice that was loud, abrasive, and persuading. Had I known that He would complete me, and annoint me in the ways He has until this day, then that loud voice would have easily been forgotten. However... that voice became my voice of reason. And for that, I'm sorry.

Forgive me.

I stand here alone and I can see the bottom... the bottom of this forsaken pit. I grow closer to solid ground and the temperature drops sharply to a bitter five below. Cold sweats and blue fire will encase the rebirthing. you. you put me here. you don't act in my favor. you give me nothing. you tear me away from my reality. I find the satisfaction you were meant to promise in criticizing those who follow you so closely. I can't wait to see one of them lose touch with you and watch the whole train spiral out of control. The fall will be so filling. I can taste the confusion that they will face, for I too have sipped from this cup of false conviction. When they sever from your grip, I will be so quick to offer them what I have found elsewhere. The sheer purity that I have found will blind and sicken them, so they may be quick to detest the use of it as a stem pack to reawaken what went dormant before the essence of thrill was blown fervently in their direction. you have nothing. you are a leech on the belly of something so much greater. The blood is perfect but you continue to taint it with your unwanted penetration of the skin. Go back to that endless abyss and be taken away by the gross osmosis that brought you into the people that I love. So often did I dance with you in the past for you were so tempting. I looked you in the eye and felt to high. So incredibly high. High on sin. Who were you to blacken me? Laugh now, for you are the joke. your sycophants, your right hands, your bravado and your cronies... they will all fall away as I did. They will realize that HE offers the blessings that you will never fathom. Never... never again will you get the best of me. The one you tapped so deeply into, he died. He is long gone. But I don't mourn his loss. He evolved beyond your expectations and will one day rise and be welcomed home. He will be questioned for giving in to you, but forgiven nonetheless.

you don't deserve this much credit. you never will.
Active transport of hate and love will leave you shriveled.
Shriveled, cold, left behind; what you have written for yourself.

you wouldn't change.
you wouldn't loosen.

So I detached from you.