Sep 1, 2014

    This may result into a "subliminal blog".  I have not decided.  I feel there is only so much personal bemoaning to write about before it inscribes a blemish on God or Christianity as a whole divine family.  Why act as if Christianity were a mere task?  I cannot pull out the root without first going through the dirt.  How can I write about my experiences and then pepper it with fragments of hope?  Then fall into a despairing pit the following day when I am well aware I am walking in God's will.    It's as if I didn't stumble into it, but was forcibly pushed in with not such a choice being an option.  Those recent memories are the source of this pit.  Once in, I am not instantly crushed, but in the process of being crushed.  It is then a spirit twitches... maybe mine?  I do not know.  Either way, the words start dancing through my mind.  Lately there has been little to no uplifting of spirit, at least not enough to write another "inspiring" blog.  Upon the crushing, God's presence is felt light-years apart of my existence, yet I discover it better than strolling happily through life without a feeling of His presence.  In this pit, God is the one turning my destroyed insides out... then those insides He shall get through these words.  Honesty will be a brute force driving this writing.  
    Those memories though, are nauseating and driving my spirit through a impenetrable cold steel floor.  The bad memories that were the reason for the destruction of my relationship to begin with, are the instant and most concentrated batch of pain.  They are brief and preferable.  The good memories with the person that I was unaware I was creating with, at that time, are the most unrelenting, soul crushing, humanity leaching "thing" I cannot shake off.  A prayer for healing has only been a band-aid for a mortal gash.  I loved her... and so now what?!  I can either wish her destruction or still be fond of her.  She was, and is still a reality.  Whether it be righteous or wicked, the feelings do not simply vanish.  Like a cut tree, it must hit land somewhere.  The hate alone would so humanly give birth to a breeding ground of destruction in me.  I have walked that path once.  Since that is obviously not the path I chose, the hate has been replaced with pain.  This pain has been a byproduct of forgiveness albeit under this specific circumstance.  The pain comes and goes as a resonating frequency I cannot tune.  But there is no doubt, the pain will, at it's due time, vanish.  The hate that could have been, will not... I know of this.  There is a satisfying motivational strength in anger, yet there is a powerful humiliating strength in weakness.  It was never what some would consider "inner-strength."  That was exactly the opposite of what I relied on.  My "inner-strength" was my motivation for revenge.  Though my spirit did not just pray, plead, and beg.  It awoke into a gravely wounded lamenting animal cornered by it's hunters while emotionally on the brink of breaking through the next level of rage I have never experienced before, if I were to attempt to fight this battle alone.  Faced with fight or flight, when I was an animal not born with wings?  Those wings became my answered prayer.

    This was never concluded with my ability to forgive.  No such power existed in me to proclaim a victory in a losing battle.   I had no such strength to follow through, too much feeling of self-worth and dignity.  That was exactly what I had to throw on the altar and burn.  Only once I did this was there now room for Jesus to get to work.  His power working graciously through my pain and sacrifices.  Alive and bitter as it were, it was also real.

This blog was written in the span of over a week.  It began with a heavy burden of grief and confusion, and was suddenly ending with anger.  I had to let this one sit for several days due to loaded questions that were once written on here.  The type of questions one politician would ask another politician during a debate.  The answer lay in an entangling deceiving web.  Who was I attempting to trap?  It just left more confusion.  Therefore, this only makes me realize I cannot write with anger.  It was finally edited, and voila, the Truth makes an appearance.