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Just A Thought
Jul. 8th, 2017 12:55 pmUngizungezile ngasemuva nangaphambili.
Wabek'isandla sakho phezukwami.
It says "You surround me, behind and before. You've placed your hand on me." It's from Psalm 139:5.
I was born with this pain in my chest. It has always been there, and has never left. We stand at the beginning of a long road. He's holding my hand, and I'm there, with my hand in His. He's keeping His eyes on me the entire time but I haven't even glanced in His dirction...I don't realize He's holding my hand...He's the only one out of us both who is gripping the other. My hand is just laying in His. And from the beginning of my life we started walking...and at every bump we come across, I pause. I let go of His hand and cry, my chest paining. He still stands there, arm outstretched to me but I don't even realize it, consumed in the throes of my own grief over this bump that changed my straight, flat road. Eventually, I struggle over the bump on my own, getting bruised and scratched on the way over, even as His hand remains outstretched. I eventually hold out my own hand to His again, just looking for that familiar feeling around my hand, the source of which, I have no idea. He grips my hand again and we continue on.
We reach a crack in the road now, and I let go of His hand and struggle on my own around the crack, the hollow throb in my thoracic cavity more insistent, while He still stands there with His arm continually outstretched towards me. I get around the crack after having tripped in it and getting hurt, and then I allow Him to hold my hand again as we continue walking.
At a certain point, I stop looking ahead and look to the sides of me and see vast and beautiful meadow, stretched out, ending along a line of woods covered in fog. I hear howling and chattering in the woods, music and gales of sweetened laughter intertwined within the abundant, yet distant sounds. I am drawn toward the lovely melodies emanating from the surroundings...and I unknowingly let go of His hand yet again. He tries to tell me something for He speaks, but I have never been able to hear Him, even when the words are spoken right into my ear. As I slip my hand away from His, my chest throbs again, but I have felt this pain so often that I am now numb to it. As numb as I have been to the feeling of His hand around mine for my entire life. I begin to wander through the glittering meadow, each flower a jewel, as beautiful as they are sharp. I pluck them out of the ground and they grip my numb digits, their sweet scent erupting a previously unknown feeling of pleasure within my being. I feel at home, in all that I have never known. As I wander further and further, the scent of the flowers pulling and pulling me further, to the crawling, twisting mists at the entrance to the woods.
I stop and stare through the darkened trees, as shadows dance through them, the gales of laughter and sounds of filling music tickles my ear...and I pause. Unsure. As I turn my head to look back from whence I came, soft fingers wrap delicately around my chin, turning my head foward again. The figure before me emits a mysterious beauty, a shrewd charm reminiscent of the lovely meadow, as he offers his hand to me. I glance up at him and a glistening, sharp smile fills my view. I am left in a daze and suddenly I am walking into the woods with him; our fingers intertwined in a mutual grip. I am struck by wonder at every corner of the wood upon entrance...nymph-like creatures flit about in glowing balls of light. Other mysterious figures run and disappear in the fog of the woods. Howling echoes outward from the deep and a tugging, almost caressing music draws me nearer. I hear other voices, a harrowing ghost-like, eerie chorus that tugs on something within me. I continue stepping forward, forging deeper and deeper into the unknown, drawn by curiosity; the glistening smile of my companion growing ever brighter with each step.
I finally reach into a clearing, surrounded by fog. Impatient to know the source of the sounds reaching my ears, I step into the fog and experience a sudden rise in temperature. An unbelievable heat that rips through my being and tears the breath from my lungs and melts my very skin. I look up in disbelief and am assaulted by what I see. Others, like me. Some dance and jump around in reckless abandon on the coals that are burning off their feet. Some are stirred in iron pots of overflowing lava, by creatures far to frightening to put into description. Some are forcibly engaging in the most horrifying, scarring and grotesque of acts that have ever passed through the minds of any being in existence. And every single one screams out sounds of agony, in pain and sorrow for a mercy they do not receive...the haunting, eerie sounds that first drew me towards them. I turn back toward my beautiful companion, and in his place, I find a beast befitting horror beyond comprehension. He mouths words I hear more clearly than any others...THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED. THIS IS WHAT YOU THIRSTED AFTER. THIS IS YOUR REWARD.
STEP FORWARD...AND CLAIM YOUR PRIZE.
I scream words without breath...as the eerie screams fill my ears, not realizing that I am now a contributor to the sound, the sound of a fowler's snare to trap another unwitting soul. I scream and I scream till my throat feels rubbed raw. The hollowness in my chest expands like a vast hole attempting to swallow my entire being from the inside out as my mind tightens in on itself as though it is about to implode when somewhere in the back of my broken mind I hear a voice I had never heard before, but which was always there. I see an outstretched hand I never saw before, but which was always there. And I realize...I am not yet dancing on the coals. I am not yet being stirred in the pot of lava...but I have brought myself to suffering as though I am.
And I scream for His help. For the hand that was always there.
A sudden wind grabs hold of my now broken body and sweeps it away from the heat, away from the mists of the woods and the cloying scent of the meadow, back onto a pebbled road I recognize. As my fragile figure lays beaten, burned and shredded, I manage to scrabble unto my back and look at what stands above me. A figure with His hand outstretched toward me, waiting. I lay on the floor and stutter out heart-rending sobs of pain and grief because of what I have been through. Not only was I harmed in the journey into the woods...but also on the journey back. I look up at the figure with His outstretched hand and curse Him. I curse Him for not helping me before, for not telling me what lay beyond that God-forsaken meadow. I curse Him for seeing that I was going the wrong way and not rescuing me from having to go through what I did. And for days, I laid on the ground of that road, sobbing, cursing, and ignoring the figure who only kept His hand held out toward me. I refused to touch someone who would allow me to go through such grief.
After a fair while, the tears cleared from my eyes, and the venom cleared from my tongue and I looked up again. He was still there, His hand outstretched to me. I sat up, cringing in pain as I did, not just from my external wounds, but from an internal guilt for my behaviour towards this man who did nothing to harm, but only held His hand out toward me. I felt that hollow space within my chest twinge once again, a pain I hadn't taken notice enough to realize still existed in a while. I looked up at Him and apologized...at that moment, I felt the pain in my chest subside slightly. That had never happened before. I looked at my body and realized that my external wounds still existed...since they were self-inflicted, they would last a while. But in each one, I saw reflected what I dealt with in those woods; a reminder...and a warning. I looked back at the woods and my mind brought back the wonder I experienced while straying...but this time, I knew it was not worth it. However, I also knew that this would not be the last time I gazed into those woods, some part of me longing for part of what it offered. Knowing that the part can only come with the whole, I looked back to the road I was supposed to be treading on. I struggled to my feet, looked up at the outstretched hand that was perpetually before me, nodded, and held that hand again. Consciously, this time.
Deuteronomy 31:6 Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”
Wabek'isandla sakho phezukwami.
It says "You surround me, behind and before. You've placed your hand on me." It's from Psalm 139:5.
I was born with this pain in my chest. It has always been there, and has never left. We stand at the beginning of a long road. He's holding my hand, and I'm there, with my hand in His. He's keeping His eyes on me the entire time but I haven't even glanced in His dirction...I don't realize He's holding my hand...He's the only one out of us both who is gripping the other. My hand is just laying in His. And from the beginning of my life we started walking...and at every bump we come across, I pause. I let go of His hand and cry, my chest paining. He still stands there, arm outstretched to me but I don't even realize it, consumed in the throes of my own grief over this bump that changed my straight, flat road. Eventually, I struggle over the bump on my own, getting bruised and scratched on the way over, even as His hand remains outstretched. I eventually hold out my own hand to His again, just looking for that familiar feeling around my hand, the source of which, I have no idea. He grips my hand again and we continue on.
We reach a crack in the road now, and I let go of His hand and struggle on my own around the crack, the hollow throb in my thoracic cavity more insistent, while He still stands there with His arm continually outstretched towards me. I get around the crack after having tripped in it and getting hurt, and then I allow Him to hold my hand again as we continue walking.
At a certain point, I stop looking ahead and look to the sides of me and see vast and beautiful meadow, stretched out, ending along a line of woods covered in fog. I hear howling and chattering in the woods, music and gales of sweetened laughter intertwined within the abundant, yet distant sounds. I am drawn toward the lovely melodies emanating from the surroundings...and I unknowingly let go of His hand yet again. He tries to tell me something for He speaks, but I have never been able to hear Him, even when the words are spoken right into my ear. As I slip my hand away from His, my chest throbs again, but I have felt this pain so often that I am now numb to it. As numb as I have been to the feeling of His hand around mine for my entire life. I begin to wander through the glittering meadow, each flower a jewel, as beautiful as they are sharp. I pluck them out of the ground and they grip my numb digits, their sweet scent erupting a previously unknown feeling of pleasure within my being. I feel at home, in all that I have never known. As I wander further and further, the scent of the flowers pulling and pulling me further, to the crawling, twisting mists at the entrance to the woods.
I stop and stare through the darkened trees, as shadows dance through them, the gales of laughter and sounds of filling music tickles my ear...and I pause. Unsure. As I turn my head to look back from whence I came, soft fingers wrap delicately around my chin, turning my head foward again. The figure before me emits a mysterious beauty, a shrewd charm reminiscent of the lovely meadow, as he offers his hand to me. I glance up at him and a glistening, sharp smile fills my view. I am left in a daze and suddenly I am walking into the woods with him; our fingers intertwined in a mutual grip. I am struck by wonder at every corner of the wood upon entrance...nymph-like creatures flit about in glowing balls of light. Other mysterious figures run and disappear in the fog of the woods. Howling echoes outward from the deep and a tugging, almost caressing music draws me nearer. I hear other voices, a harrowing ghost-like, eerie chorus that tugs on something within me. I continue stepping forward, forging deeper and deeper into the unknown, drawn by curiosity; the glistening smile of my companion growing ever brighter with each step.
I finally reach into a clearing, surrounded by fog. Impatient to know the source of the sounds reaching my ears, I step into the fog and experience a sudden rise in temperature. An unbelievable heat that rips through my being and tears the breath from my lungs and melts my very skin. I look up in disbelief and am assaulted by what I see. Others, like me. Some dance and jump around in reckless abandon on the coals that are burning off their feet. Some are stirred in iron pots of overflowing lava, by creatures far to frightening to put into description. Some are forcibly engaging in the most horrifying, scarring and grotesque of acts that have ever passed through the minds of any being in existence. And every single one screams out sounds of agony, in pain and sorrow for a mercy they do not receive...the haunting, eerie sounds that first drew me towards them. I turn back toward my beautiful companion, and in his place, I find a beast befitting horror beyond comprehension. He mouths words I hear more clearly than any others...THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED. THIS IS WHAT YOU THIRSTED AFTER. THIS IS YOUR REWARD.
STEP FORWARD...AND CLAIM YOUR PRIZE.
I scream words without breath...as the eerie screams fill my ears, not realizing that I am now a contributor to the sound, the sound of a fowler's snare to trap another unwitting soul. I scream and I scream till my throat feels rubbed raw. The hollowness in my chest expands like a vast hole attempting to swallow my entire being from the inside out as my mind tightens in on itself as though it is about to implode when somewhere in the back of my broken mind I hear a voice I had never heard before, but which was always there. I see an outstretched hand I never saw before, but which was always there. And I realize...I am not yet dancing on the coals. I am not yet being stirred in the pot of lava...but I have brought myself to suffering as though I am.
And I scream for His help. For the hand that was always there.
A sudden wind grabs hold of my now broken body and sweeps it away from the heat, away from the mists of the woods and the cloying scent of the meadow, back onto a pebbled road I recognize. As my fragile figure lays beaten, burned and shredded, I manage to scrabble unto my back and look at what stands above me. A figure with His hand outstretched toward me, waiting. I lay on the floor and stutter out heart-rending sobs of pain and grief because of what I have been through. Not only was I harmed in the journey into the woods...but also on the journey back. I look up at the figure with His outstretched hand and curse Him. I curse Him for not helping me before, for not telling me what lay beyond that God-forsaken meadow. I curse Him for seeing that I was going the wrong way and not rescuing me from having to go through what I did. And for days, I laid on the ground of that road, sobbing, cursing, and ignoring the figure who only kept His hand held out toward me. I refused to touch someone who would allow me to go through such grief.
After a fair while, the tears cleared from my eyes, and the venom cleared from my tongue and I looked up again. He was still there, His hand outstretched to me. I sat up, cringing in pain as I did, not just from my external wounds, but from an internal guilt for my behaviour towards this man who did nothing to harm, but only held His hand out toward me. I felt that hollow space within my chest twinge once again, a pain I hadn't taken notice enough to realize still existed in a while. I looked up at Him and apologized...at that moment, I felt the pain in my chest subside slightly. That had never happened before. I looked at my body and realized that my external wounds still existed...since they were self-inflicted, they would last a while. But in each one, I saw reflected what I dealt with in those woods; a reminder...and a warning. I looked back at the woods and my mind brought back the wonder I experienced while straying...but this time, I knew it was not worth it. However, I also knew that this would not be the last time I gazed into those woods, some part of me longing for part of what it offered. Knowing that the part can only come with the whole, I looked back to the road I was supposed to be treading on. I struggled to my feet, looked up at the outstretched hand that was perpetually before me, nodded, and held that hand again. Consciously, this time.
Deuteronomy 31:6 Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”
