I stare at a blank page in front of me, looking for a place to start… seems like that would come easy with the blankness staring back at me. But it isn’t. My soul is reaching. Like a flower, I can feel it pulling me toward light, through the concrete, I’ve always grown, anyway. God is cool like that. He gives, and takes away. Casting Crowns lyrics, “I will praise you in this storm,” come over me like a blanket.
There is so much heaviness in my life right now. I have so much to say. So much honesty to dump out. To free from my guts. I feel like I am running from a serial killer of time, and begging for my life from a ghost I can’t identify. Each day is a battle from beginning to end. Losing people. You’re never ready. You’re never prepared.
I’m not even sure where it started. I just know that it did. As it consumed me, I started just filling the empty with pure anger. Hatred. Annoyance. Frustration. Aggravation. Nothing positive lives here anymore. Well that can’t be true, because something inside me is fighting to break through the concrete. It’s pure soul. It’s that mustard seed that was planted so very long ago. Planted as a child. Watered as a teenager, standing between two of my dearest friends in a small church in Gulf Breeze. When I was too scared to go forward, both Mellow and Amy held my hands and walked with me. I wanted to be like them. Two of the brightest Christian lights I’ve ever met.
I think back to the light that radiated from them. I think about the other Christians I’ve come in contact with since then. Many lights burned out. Many torches, never made it up the hill. I think about my own light. I know it doesn’t radiate. But I know that like a star a billion miles away, my light is only dull because of how far away I am. But it’s still there. The ember needs fanned.
I’m tired of living angry and frustrated. I’m tired of feeling I am on the verge of collapse. I’m tired of doing what everyone else wants or needs me to do. It’s time for me to do what I was called to do. It’s time to bring this star back. The darkest of nights needs more stars. And I am fucking done feeling dull and dusty.