Pain is a thief that robs my comfort, and reaches eagerly for my hope, but I refuse to let him take it away. There is such a struggle. I yell, "Stop! Thief!" but I am so alone. So alone with all these people.
Everything looks bleak, and nothing sounds so good as leaving everything behind and going home. but going to a home that no longer even exists, a home where I am a child again, and I have friends and family to laugh with, a place where I can run around with Nerf guns and watch cartoons and bike to the park and float homemade boats down the river.
I hurt. Is it selfish to say that?
I watched this survival show on TV. This guy is in a desert and he desperately needs to find water to survive. He finds this valley, and at the bottom of it is water. but it's stagnant and full of dead animals and filth, he'd be better off without it. and though he's in the middle of one of the hottest deserts on the planet, the water is below freezing. So he works his way down into this canyon, and now he needs to find his way out. but the walls are so steep, and he is all alone.
Why is it that in the the lowest trenches of our darkest valleys we begin to see our failures and faults even more clearly. The ice cold sludge of who we really are sloshes around our shivering bodies and we long for the warmth of the sun.
I can never return to the comforting home of my childhood (even if I could, it would be selfish to do so), and even though the warmth of the sun seems nothing but a dream, I am not alone.
I don't think there is anything quite as astonishingly beautiful as these two things; a person who willingly enters into the valley just to walk through it all with the wanderer. Second is that the Creator of the wanderer and of the valley leads the way, revealing truth as they go.
Pain steals my comfort, and he can have it. But he can't take my hope, because I know I am loved, and that one day, I will feel the sun once again.
2 comments:
We are not alone. And yet we are alone. So very alone.
I don't understand what I'm getting at either... I don't really share the same attachment to my childhood as you do though.
oh ty, this saddens me so and yet i understand, because i often feel the exact same way. we were always able to relate on levels like this, that is for sure.
the innocence OF innocence, its appealing.
keep wandering my friend, because when moving backwards is out of the question, then one must move forward. Stagnancy is the living dead. You have life Ty...so reject the allure to stop for thought that the pain might ease, and run forward instead. Usually one can run through a side cramp and feel better after a while. Stopping just makes the whole event even more painful, and trying to have never started...well, that is not a possibility.
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