Writing Experiment

I've been reading a couple of new blogs that have completely changed my mindset on writing. I write mostly to summarize the activities of the day and so do these guys but I guess they come at it from a different place, more of descriptive rather than narrative language, such that you feel like you were going through the emotions and the course of the day with them. I'm loving it. So, I thought I'd try it out. I wrote this a while ago after going through a particularly bad day, what better way to start this experiment right?

Here goes;

Driving down the same dead-end route hoping to get to a different destination is an obvious exercise in futility and sadly, over the years, it’s become the foundation of my identity.

The spacious way and the wide gate is where I find myself walking, each time thinking I learnt my lesson, I’m stronger now and I’m ready for whatever comes. Boldly telling the enemy, “You want a piece of this, come and get it.” He does and he wins the battle. 

In the midst of the fight, I think of Him. Him who owns every piece of me, Him whose face I turn away from, Him whose open arms I ignore. I hide my face in shame; I dig deep into the darkness to find cover from the light that always breaks through. I can’t stand the brightness that hurts my eyes every time as they struggle to adjust. If only I’d stayed in the light in the first place, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. 

Finally, I dig deep enough and the darkness swallows me. I desperately need the light, I long for it, I crave it, but I can’t move. Not again. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t deserve freedom. I don’t deserve warmth. I definitely don’t deserve those hands always reaching out to me.

The choice has to be made. The door has to be closed. The foothold has to be sawed out. He’ll wash my dusty feet, but isn’t it time to get some shoes? I can come out guns a-blazing as much as I want, but I have to understand when it’s time to retreat. When it’s time to wave the white flag, turn around, get back on the ship and sail away. To realize that the war has already been won and my battles are self-sought, self-propagated and self-lost.

Maybe the crux of the matter is that I look for life everywhere else but from Him who gives it in abundance.

Maybe I haven’t fully believed that the narrow path does lead to life. Maybe it’s time I did. Maybe it’s time I realized no one compares to Him. That He’s the only one who can satisfy me. That my plan is nothing compared to His. That He really truly has me and I can’t close my eyes and pretend He doesn’t and that my actions don’t break His heart.

So I say with the same boldness I had before,

“I quit, you can have this, I don’t want it anymore.

If you want a fight you’ll have to wrestle on your own

Because this isn’t my battle,

My war’s already been won.”

xx

Jo