Tag Archive: conscience


crawling through the desert on my hands and knees, torn jeans clinging desperately to my legs, shirt mostly in tatters, hanging loosely off my shoulders… eyes darting to and fro, hoping to catch sight of, a quick glimpse, the hint of, a water source, river, stream, oasis of sorts… some type of cactus with juicy flesh waiting for me to discover in its hidden caverns the satiation for my current devastation, even temporary relief for my present disbelief of the localised unbelief that seems to surround me on all sides, pressing in, trying to suffocate, attempting to deprecate, to abbreviate, or proliferate its… their, own sense of being marginalised, disenfranchised, tied up, held up, brought up, bought into sense of hopelessness, of clung to plausible deniability, of watered down potentiality… minimalistic expression of a far deeper, richer, more vibrant, on offer life experience that suddenly, once more, slaps me into wakefulness, renewing the drive onwards, pushing me further away from those who will contain me in their quicksand filled, undisclosed and scattered leftover buried mine encased mime constructed boxes of delapidated individuality brought about by the refined redefined personal definition of a wholly holy majestical greater power defined way of existing…

me, my, mine is the call of those who will fashion the path that has already been marked out for me by the One who Lovingly, and Loving me, took it upon Himself to walk it before me, leaving tell-tale signs along the way of His greater intention, His life-interrupting intervention that comes to me [did i mention?] as a whisper, as a quiet voice i can sometimes barely make out hidden in the backgrounds of a gentle breeze, a rapid flash of cover, a hint, a suggestion, a spirit-filled gut feel that points out, draws me out, calls me out, points me to, takes me to, makes me to… change my course, alter the discourse, discover the resource that already lies deep within me…

for history is not my story, it’s His story, but one in which He has invited me to participate, and regenerate, [dare i alliterate?] revelling in the revealing revolutionary revelation of His rambunctious glory, grace and gracious generosity. are you starting to see? will you align with me? but not dispassionately. i desperately and hungrily require some brutal introspective honesty. i am not looking for empathy. i need you walking alongside me. i’m not asking for another one of me. like some kind of test tube created science experimental experience of trying to mess with destiny. i am feeling a little alone here. so why would i be wanting a clone here? bump my head against another loner? i am asking for, appealing for, calling for, crying out for you. are you with me? i am wanting someone who has a hunger for more than games, who nurses a need for more than speed, who has a panoramic vision and life focus that is both from here and to eternity…

are you in? can i count on you? lean on you? walk this road with you? crawl through the desert on my hands and knees, torn jeans clinging desperately to my legs, shirt mostly in tatters, hanging loosely off my shoulders, with you? eyes darting to and fro, hoping to catch sight of, a quick glimpse, the hint of, a water source, river, stream, oasis of sorts… what’s that you see?

one of my favourite cartoon strips is called ‘Pearls Before Swine’ and in this one i think Stephan Pastis nails it on the head [the premise is rat who is a cynical and mean character rediscovers the chest in the attic where he locked his conscience many years before]:

[For another great Pearls Before Swine moment, this time involving a mini-thesis from me on being Facebook poked, click here]

 

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