Sunday, June 17, 2012

Life won't wait on the wounded.

A couple of sun-kissed moments later
After a wave of everything comes storming my way,
I am left here.
A guitar in my hands and emotions brimming on my heart,
I strum the familiar chords
and I remember.
I remember every laugh.
I remember every smile.
I remember every moment when I was brought alive
Almost complete.
Almost, but not quite.
I remember being almost content.
Almost, but not there.
I was almost happy.
I remember flashing scenes
Regular life meshed with hearty dysfunction.
Dysfunction was life,
and I was ok with it.
I remember crying,
warm tears streaming down my cheeks
every time my heart was lashed at.
I remember feeling confusion,
lost causes met with incomplete silence.
I remember feeling frustrated,
lacking in what I wanted to be and being pushed into who I resisted becoming.
But I became that person eventually.
I remember feeling safe,
forcing myself to feel safe
when I was anything but safe.
Despite the fear that I knowingly ignored, I persisted.
Despite the warnings that seemed to pop up everywhere, I became ignorant.
Despite the caution in my spirit, I sprinted in the wrong direction.
Because it had become my home.
Even now, through flashes and fear, chaos and peace,
my heart finds the smallest piece of itself somewhere else,
lost in a past that I was forced to move forward from
behind in a dream that almost seems like it was yesterday.
I'm sore.
Running, pushing, waiting, using
Helping, thriving, living, striving
with a dull throb of a reminder in the back that I know must eventually fade.

Why is it that the faster you attempt to heal from something, the harder it haunts you?
Because around every corner there is a chance to be who I was
who is almost unfamiliar in light of the person who sits here now,
typing and wondering how it all happened.
But "everything I was I'm now running from.
I'm never looking back."
I can't look back.
Why does it hurt so much?
Why does pain have to be so painful?
Why do memories have to haunt you for agonizing hours?
Why do places fill you with remorse and heartache?
Because life doesn't sit still,
And life doesn't wait on the wounded.
In the midst of the drama of emotion and the abrupt halt of consistency,
life persists.
It moves.
It pushes on with or without your consent.
I've lost too much time knowingly and unknowingly being ignorant of the will of God,
and life has handed me a slap to get me back to reality.
This is my life now,
will I live in it or will I live from the past of it?
Will I push on with it
or will I avoid it in attempts of recreating shackles?
Will I let hurt become an anchor
or will I attempt to be anchored to nothing less then Jesus Christ?
I feel it,
His will.
His presence.
Chipping, breaking, grinding everything down to dust
So that He might rebuild.

He smiles, because through my stark change in direction
and heavy change of focus,
He's been waiting for this moment.
He's been anticipating this summer,
and when He smiles I feel it
and I know I'm doing something right.
"Not my will, but Yours" has never meant so much,
because I'm realizing now that it changes your life.
So through every weighing down possibility factor,
I am reminded that I am more than a conqueror.
This is my Everest,
and I will climb it until I
and when I take in the air of overcoming
I will be the mountain climber He always dreamed me to be.
And even though I'm not there yet
Not who I need to be
And far from who I was
He sees me as is and as I will be.
So, I climb.

Climb on, friends.
You are not alone.
We're in this together.

1 comment:

  1. That was awesome! Keep up with the guitar playing. By the way, Schmabatha is an interesting last name :)