An Unworthy Remnant

 

Out of the dark a remnant rises ,muddy, disoriented ,blinded by an unapproachable light . Drawn to the warmth, she begins to pursue. Not knowing which direction to go, a gentle voice guides. ” Follow Me He says”, with an abandoned will to live she follows. Pursuing what feels like love she continues on. Bloody knees, bent back, wet eyes she searches for Him, straining just to see a glimpse of His face . As the remnant crawls, her feeble knees are strengthened , as she begins to walk her back stands upright. Her eyes are opened and her ears can hear Him clearly . Her childlike following has lead her to full blown sprint, a pursuit of righteousness. A promise is given between the two and He is not man that he should lie. The pursuit she feels turns into a longing in her heart to go back to where he found her and simply reach ! As she turns He strengthens her fingers for war and equips her hands for the battle ahead. No longer is this about her, it is about them ! A longing to rescue those being led away to the slaughter. She remembers the pit in which he took her from. Desperation in a heart that is fully abandoned ,a quickening spirit and bleeding hands lead the way. With every step there is a process, with every tear there is restoration , with every doubt , there is grace ! Unworthy she sits in awe of the majesty of His Love. She begins to groan whispers “who am I that You should be mindful of me ” weeping she knows she has been chosen but is not fit for this battle . Her knees begin to become weak once more and she falls to the ground in naked shame.. she sits in a broken place . He draws close.. and in her weakness He becomes her strength . “Be still and know that I Am”. She put her heart in His hands and He renews its ability to beat once more. She rests under the breath of her 1st love and hides out under the shadow of who He is . He reassures her that he would never leave her, that this battle outside is His, but she must choose to walk . He will defend and defeat the accuser, But she must first choose to pursue after Him . A promise of a better day rises and the hope of Heaven emerges over the mountain tops . Does she stay in hiding or does she continue on? Reflecting the Son on her face Her blood now turns into a fire in her bones . Understanding the call she now hears the voices of the others. She is not alone. Many choose to stay in the false safety of the abandoned buildings , but other rise out of the ashes. She rises unafraid and unashamed that they choose to follow what others can not see.

The best advice anyone can get

 

Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable then my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice....now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind, you won't understand the power and
beauty of your youth until they've faded, but trust me in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of
yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
 
Don't worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind: the kind that blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
 
Do one thing every day that scares you.
 
Sing.
 
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts; don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
 
Floss.
 
Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself. Remember compliments you receive; forget the insults. (if you succeed in doing this, tell me how).
 
Keep your old love letters; throw away your old bank statements.
 
Stretch.
 
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people
I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives; some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.
 
Get plenty of Calcium.  Be kind to your knees -- you'll miss them when they're gone.
 
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't.  Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40; maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.
 
Enjoy your body: use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it; it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
 
Dance...even if you have no where to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions (even if you don't follow them). Do not read beauty magazines; they will only make you feel ugly.
 
Get to know your parents; you never know when they'll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings: they're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
 
Understand that friends come and go, but what a precious few should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps and geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
 
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
 
Travel.
 
Accept certain inalienable truths: prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old; and when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
 
Respect your elders.
 
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse, but you never know when either one might run out.
 
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you are 40, it will look 85.
 
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of wishing the past from the disposal--wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me, I'm the sunscreen.

Pleasure turns to the pain of
lessons learned from the strain
questions burned in my brain..

About whether love is humane
in its touch.

These thoughts are like salmon swimming upstream
in the tears of your deceit.
Fighting the current hurt that kills more than is created by the chaos
of our intertwined emotions.
Chaotic because the anchor of Erros' arrow has been plucked
from the vessel of my undying infatuation.
Separation not as simple as the distance between us.

My mind no longer possessed by demons
that have been the overseers of my enslavement to your lies,
the seeds of these lies rooted so deeply
they have cracked the foundation of what we once shared
allowing the faith in us I had sealed inside to gush out like a river
ripping the image of our future together from my thoughts
as violently and as brutally as if it were a child
being taken from its mothers arms.

I'm left surrounded in darkness
but I refuse to be swallowed by it.
My loneliness like the night air
invisible to the eye
obvious to the touch.
It is cold uncomfortableness
yet if I could do it all over again,
id do it in the same skin im in.

To lay down and let love die,
just stay down and let love lie?
no, no..not I.
Id stay around and let love fly.
Even though I have seen its darkest form,
deceit.....
Nothing else could taste this warm
or feel this sweet...



                                 Losing Love you really never had
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I fell in love. And there was laughing and funny breaths and happiness. There was much rejoicing. And then, SHUT! Over. Gone. Dead. Completely cut off. Disconnected. The taste still fresh in my mouth. The smell still on my skin. The feeling left in my fingertips. But I can't get that feeling back. I may spend my entire life trying to get back into that Polaroid. Fighting all the way. The best thing I have ever known.

Even now, years later, anytime I come close to it I want to dive in. Sink or swim. I don't care. I would give anything to be even in the room next to it. Across the street. A breath away. Remembering what I never let myself forget. Looking someone in the eye and knowing; another time, another place, it is right there. In front of me. Within reach. Just open my fingers and wrap them around it. Hold it tightly. And never let it go. Never. Never. I fought. I fought hard. But only with myself. Sometimes I wonder if I should have fought harder. With him. With it. Tried to work it out. It all made sense for about fifteen seconds. Just enough time to say, You're right. What the hell was I thinking. Why didn't I say . . . . something. My line of thinking was? if he doesn't want it, I don't want to push it.? Why try to keep him where he doesn't want to be? But he did want to be there. He had to. He was happy. There were nights I cried. When we were together and then I let him leave and on the way home I cried. Not because I was sad, or even missed him already, but because I was happy. So happy I couldn't contain myself. I talked to God. Whether I believed in him or not. And I said thank you. Over and over. Again and again. I couldn't believe it was real. That I could actually touch him. Kiss him. Look into his perfect green eyes and see myself. But I could. I had seen him before, In my dreams. And I said to myself ? I would give up everything if he would even turn my way.? He was light years beyond me. Another plane. Another class. Confident, beautiful, at peace. So sure. Not for me. I couldn't even dream it. No way could I ever make it real. Did he feel what I felt? I have to believe he did. If I didn't it would be so hard to breathe. So hard to get up in the morning. So hard to be. No one will be him. No one will have those green eyes. No one will have that touch hiding all his secrets. And no one, ever again (shudder) will make me whole. Not like that. I'm scared. I'm so scared. What if it is real? What if never? What if I'm right? Do you ever wonder, do you ever ask yourself,? Can I live without love?? Can I open my eyes? I'm afraid to. There is a feeling. You know it. This trembling completeness. This warmth. That makes everything big. And you are ten feet tall all the time. Everyone is looking at you. You are the one. The one he chose. The one he calls when everything is wrong, and when everything is right! He is the one who reaches out for you. For me. He once said, I need you! I was done. That was what I was looking for all my life. Those words. For something so pure as this creature to need ME! Could not be real. Could not be my life. But it was. Of course, it WAS! It isn't anymore. It is gone. So far away. And it will never be there again. I see little pieces of it everywhere. A glance, a smile, a touch. I feel desperate. I feel alone. So much out there. But I only want to hear one thing. Not sure what. But I will know. If I ever get the chance. I will stretch out my fingers, grasp it tightly, and NEVER LET IT GO! But till then; I will be here. With my open hand. And my desperate heart. And my cold skin. Slowly, regrettably, forgetting just enough that I can survive from one day to the next. To remember is to suffer. To see what was and then look at what is. To hear a voice, feel my heart stop. Watch my breath studder in the cold. He can be almost anyone. He can read me like a book. I will open to any page for him. Cover to cover. Nothing to hide. Not the fear, the pain, or the hopelessness. It is all there. Large print ; easy to read. Secrets dissolve in tears. Dissipating into honesty, innocence, need. I was lost and now I'm found. I was blind but now I see. Maybe I don't want to.