Monday, May 11, 2009

Strength.

Lord, won't You give me strength
To make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now.
Homesick, MercyMe.
 
Sometimes, you get driven to the edge of insanity. No bungy cord, no safety rope, no high wires or safety net. You're pushed over the edge.
 
And you're expected to catch yourself on the precipice and make things happen. Make life happen. Clear people out one by one with feats of strength and determination and persistence.
 
And you don't say anything. Because you think to yourself that this job is bigger than you are. It's more than what you think. Its more than whatever you're doing up there. Its wayy bigger and more infinite than a lot of things that you think about yourself.
 
A bit like God, really. And when you want to wonder why and your lips form the questions you've been dying to ask, you get given the answer, "His Ways are higher than ours."
 
Fsck the ways. Sometimes, what is required is an explanation, not a demonstration.

1 Comments:

Blogger gap said...

My theory is that when we type stuff like "Fsck", despite our intention to put our best foot foward, God still hears Fuck-and the ing shit, for that matter. For the price of energy spent trying to mask our true feelings we can say Fuck at half the price of epended energy and remain honest.

May 16, 2009 at 9:31 AM  

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