Now listening to: Josh Garrels
Dog, you ever been afraid of something, but not even really sure that you were afraid of it? Does that make sense? You ever feel like you were promised to be made a huge tool for the world, but, for some odd reason, it... just... didn't... happen. You're waiting. You think, "well, maybe i gotta get my life 'together'"? That doesn't change life or give some epiphany to your minute existing blip of a life. You quit. The tests come in. Same results. The Nasdaq has nothing on your "spiritual" life. Waves. Riding waves up and down as if you were running through the prairies of heaven and hell, and the low valleys of hell are so abundant, you just wondering, "where in hell are those peaks i've heard others speak of?"
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As i was running through this land, i was lost-- coming upon random hills reaching for heaven, but i was easily getting lost as i ascended. How did i get to that one hill? Where was it at? Where are the other hills? Continue running. No hills... for hours... for days... for weeks... for months... for years... Why am i still running? Dreams surround me. Dreams that i do not understand. Dreams of death, war, healing, sabotage, revolution, life, friends, family, fear, and hope. Dreams penetrate my thoughts. Are they the map to where i am supposed to run? If so, how do i read these maps?
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i stop. Look up. i see heaven. Do you see it? "Look up there," i say to myself. It's definitely there. i look back down and in front of me is this wall. Where did it come from? You tell me. It's everywhere. Take a brick and pick through the red rock of your hinderence. Pull more and more to find out what is on the other side. Bricks topple on you and you fall under the burden of weight. As a whole big enough for me to fit in gapes open, i step through. What is this place? Oh... I know... I've heard stories of it. The promised land. How did i get here? i do not know. It is a land so different from behind the toppled kingdom of red rock. It is not an easier land, the grass is not greener, but there is this peace, this shalom saturating in my body like a bath of water soaks in to dirty clothes. The view pierces my viens like nails to hard wood. It hurts to see that i can only walk if i open up my feelings, my thoughts, my words, and my actions. i merely have to open them up to the purpose of my life. "What is the purpose of my life?" i did not expect an answer to be given. My purpose is a grace. A love. An adoration. A stummbling truth. A power. A presence blessed upon me all my life. A person dying, yet, oh so living. For me. I let the view pierce me. To the left. To the right. With every movement of my eyes scanning this landscape and with every shaky step put in front of me.
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Then,
I start running.
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shalom.
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