The acute pain of transformation, not simply of body but of heart and mind. Is it something willfully sought, treasured and rested in or the shadows that set men to flight? Who thrusts themselves in to the crucible, the cauldron the chrysalis of remaking? The man of sadness wishing something different, the man of content or the man who wants to know the hand of universal authority and power to temper, strain and remake that which has been weakened? Is this done by choice, chance or selection? And will an informed man of solid faculties choose this route as the golden path to God knowing it will burn, bite, stretch, nag and deliver the excruciating fires accustomed to steel’s temper?

Avoided it leaves men palsied to the internal understanding of their design. We seek what is coming, the next and to stay in the now becomes a jail of impermanence as all things expire in this realm. It is only to the next destination that we may hope for everlasting. We were designed to make that jump, that leap, that slow steady painful agony of Becoming know to moth and butterfly. Staying the same is the choice of the man who has determined forever limitation in the realm of quiet escape into the first iteration. Most will chose here, most will take any path but that one that leads to the soul pain of transformation and then still there will be those who believe they can find everlasting by any other means, seeking the easy route promised by those who will lead them to eternal punishment and flames. This deception of promised escape is honey and alabaster in the mention but tears and crunching teeth in its achievement.

This hurts so much Lord I keep asking to be removed from the machinery or taken from the path for fear of nerve’s bite upon my mind. Allow me to sit into the pain, to welcome its craftsmanship of heart and mind. Give to me the peace that surpasses that agonizing quality of being made for something better. Mold me, temper me, reshaped me into the tool that will be needed in the next place. Give to me the fruits of your Holiness that will allow me to function in the journey forthcoming. Make of me the saint you intended for the millennium that I may serve you in nature and form. Let me live the bold rebirth suffering the pangs of my recreation that I may arrive at time and quarter exactly where you would have me become.