“Even if they put me in the fire, even if they hang me by my neck”
“Still I won’t let my voice go quiet and I will sing of your praise.”
And though I love not my life unto death because only then will I reunite completely with the Father, I think it’s urgent that I rephrase the above words of praise. I mean not to twist the words, devalue, or implement further importance but only to make it more relatable. I do believe the above can in fact happen literally and I hope if it did occur I would live out the trailing praises. But should you read the above statements metaphorically, let them be defined clearly.
These summer days of triumphing joy and parading warmth have left me on the floor many nights where I find myself without a song to sing of my real anguish. I think at times that the words of God that have been left to guide me have left out proof of actually knowing how I feel. Of course, I read further on and am shamefully embarrassed when God reminds me I am not alone. Yes, God really has anticipated every last thought that would ever need addressing even many cultures later as I sit here and listen to a professional string quartet & cello ensemble from Spotify, even in my modernism can God relate to my feelings.
So, my feelings, what are they? Loneliness, heartache, seclusion, detached from old joys, aloof to my old ways. My struggle is not actually being wicked but not having anyone to be righteous with. This is where the heartache joins the fiasco and I begin to miss my dear Liberty friends and then I remember that I have church on Sunday and can be comfortable in the pants I am wearing, just praising Jesus on the floor- all day. But the other six days of the week that aren’t Sunday, I am left to praise Jesus (on the floor) alone. That’s my pit of fire. Feeling alone in the presence of God, more vulnerable to the lies of the enemy, more prone to falling, more likely to lean on my own understanding.
Daily, I see the comfortable lives of my friends, I do not miss the emptiness of the world but I do miss the liveliness of their smiles. I can think of a handful of people who I would never wish to hangout with because I know the desires of their heart would not align with mine but I do miss them, the person, their soul. I miss laughing with them, driving in the night blasting music, eating, singing loud. Anything that cultivates love, anything that unites a person with another person, gone. All the things that allow Christians to have common ground with unbelievers stripped away, the bridges of content burned down to the soil and given over to the enemy. I stand on the other side of the river watching their enchanted bodies use what God made for degrading purposes. A drunken person laughs of vile things but who created laughter in the first place?
Come to the gallows and watch me be hung every single morning when I start my day because to hang there is to not allow my flesh to fall into temptation and my Jesus craving soul is allowed to walk freely with Him. I am still alone on this earth though because no one can see me walking with His spirit (no unbelievers that is). They just see me walking alone.