A brief chat with Pearl suddenly became a rare opportunity for me to really open up.
It got me thinking. I never thought the day would come when I would have trouble finding people I could open up to, like, really just run my mouth. Rarely do I expose the soft underbelly of my hopes, doubts, fears and aspirations - except perhaps on this blog. That requires a specifically matured blend of like-mindedness, familiarity and trust. Call me introverted.
Pearl and I reminisced on days of old, way back when I was still “in the world”, when this blog had not yet become an unending series of sermons. Those were wild days for me, but luckily for us both, she was grounded. Kept me in check – at least while we were together. (Quite ironically, we seem to have exchanged shoes – Pearl is “in the world” now.)
Sometimes I catch myself wallowing in nostalgia, brooding longingly on bygone misadventures. This blog’s archive is a witness to what the past entailed. Not infrequently have I looked back at my past with desire. The world was (and remains) full of conveniently placed lures. For all its dangers, life on the edge means constantly surfing the crest of a high and fast wave of pure adrenalin. This thrill alone makes it hard to leave that life behind. I often wonder if my current excuse of a renounced lifestyle is inexcusably pale and lifeless in comparison. I have to struggle with myself to hold down perceived boredom; tears smart in my eyes as I ignore the alter ego’s plaintive and pitiful appeals for attention. Wouldn’t it just be easier to feed the beast, sate its ravenous appetite, once and for all? Or, at least, just this once? Sometimes it seems that is the way to go.
But I know that if I turned back, that would be the really foolish part. The journey lies ahead. Even though I may stumble and fall, it’s not over till it’s over. I must rise again and forge onwards. What is past is left behind. Besides:
Pearl and I reminisced on days of old, way back when I was still “in the world”, when this blog had not yet become an unending series of sermons. Those were wild days for me, but luckily for us both, she was grounded. Kept me in check – at least while we were together. (Quite ironically, we seem to have exchanged shoes – Pearl is “in the world” now.)
Sometimes I catch myself wallowing in nostalgia, brooding longingly on bygone misadventures. This blog’s archive is a witness to what the past entailed. Not infrequently have I looked back at my past with desire. The world was (and remains) full of conveniently placed lures. For all its dangers, life on the edge means constantly surfing the crest of a high and fast wave of pure adrenalin. This thrill alone makes it hard to leave that life behind. I often wonder if my current excuse of a renounced lifestyle is inexcusably pale and lifeless in comparison. I have to struggle with myself to hold down perceived boredom; tears smart in my eyes as I ignore the alter ego’s plaintive and pitiful appeals for attention. Wouldn’t it just be easier to feed the beast, sate its ravenous appetite, once and for all? Or, at least, just this once? Sometimes it seems that is the way to go.
But I know that if I turned back, that would be the really foolish part. The journey lies ahead. Even though I may stumble and fall, it’s not over till it’s over. I must rise again and forge onwards. What is past is left behind. Besides:
James 4:17
Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.
Often I’m tempted to “break out of my shell”, stop being a “weirdo.” More than once I’ve come close to cutting out all this scripture-quoting – it’s not as if people appreciate it anyway – and come down to Planet Earth, return to posting a live-stream of adventures and conquests. (Am I repeating myself?) But it’s funny: I ALWAYS find I can’t live like that and ALSO be true to my conscience – these two are mutually exclusive. I can’t lie to myself and believe it too. If I feign ignorance for too long, it happens like it happened to King David:
PSALM 39:2-3
I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred. My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue.
(Paraphrase to fit my case: “…then blogged I with my blog.” hahaha)
The prophet Jeremiah confessed that, due to ridicule he received, he longed to stop his prophetic duties but found that he simply couldn’t.
The prophet Jeremiah confessed that, due to ridicule he received, he longed to stop his prophetic duties but found that he simply couldn’t.
JEREMIAH 20:9
Then I said, I will not make mention of [the LORD], nor speak any more His name, But His word was in my heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with foreboding, and I could not stay.
Chapter 20 begins with Jeremiah ridiculed, unjustly spending a night in the stocks, for delivering a prophecy from GOD that nobody at all liked. (He predicted in terrible detail the bloody Babylonian siege and conquest of Jerusalem.) In verses 14-18, a discouraged Jeremiah ends up cursing the day he was born. But despite such mistreatment, he stuck to prophecy anyway. My ‘problems’ are comparatively microscopic. I can stick to Bible-quoting.
The struggle with self continues. (Prayer works.)
The struggle with self continues. (Prayer works.)
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