Confliction...

I wish to wrap up everything I hold dear in my life, packing it neatly and to take all of it upon a journey....

To the ends of the unknown, to experience moments of bliss of just being. Soaking in the relative and relishing that which is foreign. To lay upon a beach, in the bliss of the sun and to hear voices which do not sound like mine, but I long to understand. To linger by the wayside, cycling upon the hills of far away, breathing in the silence of eternity which stretches before me. Languishing at a cafe, sipping espresso, merely listening to the buzz of humanity in the motion of life. The fluidity of the merengue and a body pressed to mine, lead only by the rhythmical pulse upon a dance floor. To hike upon terrain that holds secrets of long ago, revealing only the retort of bliss from being alive to touch what once was. Perusing through moments in time, placed upon a canvas with great care and passion, which is timeless to the human spirit. To sit upon a bench and watch the water flow beneath bridges of old world architecture; only to ponder within those moments how time has flowed through my own life. To float upon a river, beneath a canopy of green and revere nature in all its glory.

My heart longs to feel and experience what my present cannot offer, but the reality of being able to take what I desire with me is nothing more than that... a simplistic desire. As I consider embarking, I cannot take with me what I want... it will not follow. Life departs in a constant state of many fractions of light. My journey is not one which can be found anywhere but in those places and where my heart longs to be is in many directions. Tugging gently for me to live what I dream to experience.... waiting. Holding onto what I reserve as exquisitely unique; slowly slipping away within my lifetime. I cannot have both; time to let go... a choice to live the life I long to experience which will take me upon a journey that has no clear path. Albeit, no worse than to hold onto the choice to love a life I long to experience which has taken me thus far upon a journey with no clear path.

Time is the only true answer of where to land... it is only within the space encapsulated, which we call life, does God reveal what our choices lead us toward in time.

... my confliction between heart and mind.

Inevitable...

As I drove yesterday to my Grandmother's house to visit, it amazed me how much the new season is in full bloom; trees budding, flowers blossoming in full brilliant color, the grass even seems greener after a few cold, but much needed weeks of on and off again, rain and even snow (ugh!). Even though I know better, it seems as if all of these changes were so sudden and sprung up in a moment's passing. I guess when I see another season unfolding and the changes coming forth, my thoughts always lean towards my life, the progression of it and how much we are just like the beauty of the earth which we take in all year long.

It certainly is the very essence of life to change, to be changed... to continue to evolve into something more beautiful than the 'season' before. We all go through our periods of cold and gray, moments of hibernation when the world feels to be too much, then blossoming forward with new insight on life, and ready to vibrantly take on the world. Yet, with any change in life- it is a slow progression which usually is only noticed subtly until it is in full bloom. It seems as I grow personally, I am coming to terms with the pace of time and the progression of such moments. Even if we wish it would, nothing can ever stay exactly the same- without the risk of complacency, or worst yet, stagnation and death of spirit.

It is within these moments, as life evolves around us, our hearts are captured and even emotions as flighty as love are seen; bringing clarity to the truth that nothing ever stays the same. For whenever these moments come, we are given opportunity to take heed of their lessons, allowing them to envelop the soul and take the breath away; for as quickly as they come, they are gone. Emotions as strong as love, like life, are not to be mourned or put into a box for safe keeping. It just doesn't work that way. It should be about embracing every second of those moments, and simply cherishing the presence of their blissful memories forever more. After all, life can never be reversed, but it can be replayed in whatever measure that soothes the soul until the next season approaches.

Within that reflection of time and life, and the love which graces our lives, the key players will continue to change. Each person and every moment which touches our being contributes to the whole the experience of a life lived to the fullest and just like the seasons, it will fade and change. Yet, what we 'feel' we have lost will always return again, and usually in a different form, but in full bloom and more wonderful and beautiful than the season before... you just have to be willing wait for it.

Victory Forever is Mine...

Even in the midst of moments which reflected the defunct parts of my persona;
Deep within still held a irrefutable scent of victory upon the horizon.

When my eyes had nothing but desperate tears of loss;
There still reflecting back, was the indefatigably look of everlasting victory.

During the moments whence my lips uttered treacherous words;
Spinning amongst them still was an enchantment of hope... of victory.

Between moments of passing through dark shadows which cast its death;
Still within even these moments, the light of majestic victory caressed my skin.

When my only course was of that which I ran through in a hurry;
The perpetual euphoric nature of victory brought me back to where I needed to be.

Those twisted moments which wound me into a journey that unflinchingly would not let go;
Gave over to the glorious and regal overpowering victory.

Within the webs of time found within my mind and the quiet, meek voices of conscience
whispering to me those truths that I thought to be lost;
There within those moments, still could be found the power of victory.

Victory was forever mine;
In the dark;
In the quiet;
In the noise;
In the light.

Victory never left my side;
Even within the moments of my own iniquity;
Ebbing and flowing through this life.

It is Grace which is deserveth not;
Yet bestowed.

Honesty of the Heart...

I wonder why it is at times that some become so closed to the world? Do we become so battered and torn within our hearts that we can no longer open ourselves up to the potential pain of exposing what we hold dear- our emotions? Longing to find what we all seek, wanting what eludes most and finds some... yet avoiding what could bring bliss- seeking only safety. Simply the mystery of loving another. Time brings forth change, it ebbs and flows like the tides and to capture it would be like asking the tide to stop. It is not something to be held, it is merely something to be admired. For it seems when we strive to embrace what is not truly ours, it is gone as quickly as it came.

Yet I will always wonder, in the game we all play and fail at some point in our lives, do we ever come to a point where we fully recognize what we need, or is it always a conquest of hedonistic, selfish desire? I mean, at some point, a compromise has to be made, right? To compromise or to not.... to roam this earth in search of that "one" person who connects to our soul like no other. I used to think there was that 'one' person and I am finding as I move through my own time on this earth that a variety of people have offered many opportunities to experience different moments of vibrancy, clarity, intellect, passion, sexual tension, friendship, compassion, etc. So many facets to the human spirit and every person I have connected with has brought a unique experience and a recognition of my own inner spirit and how I long to feel.

I do think this life is a journey... a very confusing and winding journey. One of experience, which brings a plethora of moments that offer up new found knowledge about our deepest desires and needs. Only if we are open to these moments do these core revelations reveal themselves though, in my humble opinion. So what to do if you are a soul who fears taking that plunge into something you may never know, unless you release the fear to walk into the unknown? Will you miss out on the opportunity to experience that once in a lifetime moment to test the depths of your own energy and the desires which vibrate just under the surface? ... miss out on the opportunity for the point of rushing through your journey to satisfy some type of deadline of age, will... need to be done with the journey and reach your final destination? And for what? To say you've crossed the finish-line and begun your journey to the end?

Perhaps denying oneself is all we can do when the fear takes over, and the mind wrestles with the heart. Perhaps it is the safety of some; safety for their own heart. Possibly it is only after we come to terms with the true depths of our own souls, we can embrace the desires that lie beneath the surface and allow our heart to unlock whatever it wants to feel; without caution, without pride, without lying to ourselves that what we perceive could just not truly be real. Sadly, perhaps when we come to this point, the person whom we were suppose to have met in our journey to teach us a lesson about ourselves has continued on and then, only then... in the sadness of our hearts, we recognize what that person truly represented in that moment of time.

Ironic, eh?

Grace Found In "The Room"...

This came from a friend (thx Kat ). Just a simple and random email forwarded, but a sentiment so exact and profound, I wanted to place it here and share it's content.... beautiful really, whomever truly wrote it.

"The Room"

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read 'Girls I have liked.' I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life.

Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.A file named 'Friends' was next to one marked 'Friends I have betrayed.' The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird 'Books I Have Read,' 'Lies I Have Told,' 'Comfort I have Given,' 'Jokes I Have Laughed at.' Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: 'Things I've yelled at my brothers.'

Others I couldn't laugh at: 'Things I Have Done in My Anger', 'Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.' I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked 'TV Shows I have watched', I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked 'Lustful Thoughts,' I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!' In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot.

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it.. The title bore 'People I Have Shared the Gospel With.' The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.

He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. 'No!' I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was 'No, no,' as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, 'It is finished.' I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

'For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.'-John 3:16.

'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. '-Phil. 4:13.