redemption. its a frightening, amazing word. this morning i awoke musing upon the past moments of life. it made me smile, cringe, laugh, hesitate, sigh at everything that my world has currently been surrounded by. i couldn't help think to myself, how change and choice is so rapid in transforming ways, thoughts, lifestyles. i actually felt like i needed to a redemption of my own.
i know it may sound blasphemous or shocking but this morning, sitting in church i realised some things. i havent been living very well. i truly haven't given myself an allowance from existence and life. these days feel dead internally. i feel busy with uni, warped by good times, peppered with nasty habits and packaged by alot of distance. im not being emo or anything, i'm just facing reality. i stand back and look at the canvas of my life and all i see is gaps. gaps and inconsistencies. one minute i want to be back into the arms of my Creator, feeling the heartbeat of my church, my family, my purpose. one minute i want to run back and bask in His presence and want nothing selfish but to repent. then one minute i am flung into the world. my carnal self wanting things that i know is wrong, i know will not sustain and destroy, yet choosing all the same.
i ask how can i be so weak? like a battle inside. it aches. because as much as i feel relaxed by the passivity of my life, the more unhappy i become. the more shallow, pretensious, satisfied for something fleeting. and what frightens me more is the thought that i have been commissioned, i have been told and prayed over to go and make a difference to a desperate, hopeless generation... only to find myself as one of them. how can i be a vessel when i am as broken as the prostitute selling her body for a living, or the junkie that shoots up to escape reality, or the gambler that spends his life and family away at the casino, or whoever we consider as fucked up. how can i amount to anything more when i am just the same?
and i may live through the disappointment of some people, but will i ever live through the disappointment of the one who took the time to knit me in my mother's womb? its a scary thought. i have a saviour. i know i do. but how can i be saved from something so attached, something such as i?
love,
ps. abstract jesus... interesting
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