Stopped to watch the water, enamored with the rolling sound against quiet pebbles honed. Whispering wings against my ear, insects curious to establish new home or find food left in my beard. All is right and though dangerously true the primary result is still marching forward.

At peace in the middle of rainy winter. Prepared against the chills of the icy wind and wet, I make my perch on a freshly cut stump hardened by freezing. What things I have forgotten or missed present themselves to welcome eyes as if this is the first and last time they are seeing.

The crunch of life’s sound reminds me that the ground is firm beneath my footing. In confident stride I seek the middle of the valley where the last of falls pleasure escaped the frost’s first coming. In congruent to nothing the forest accepts me as though I have something grand to add.

No sweat or regret as the perpendicular has become parallel. Without reason firm in the feeling, I navigate the wind and stream to find the sweetest spot for sampling. All things were given unto men, yet we strive to make them ourselves. Lost my foolish understanding I am amazed at my awakening.

What willing foe would find me in God’s planting? What gifts would I give up now that I have discovered their deployment? How long will a fool await God’s pleasure? How long will a man of wealth and wisdom remain seated? What is the motivation of our hearts, and to which voice our response?

The map is useful only for internal works of valor, fear and avoidance. Projection is the obvious choice, thinking myself adequate to changing the construct of external: landmines, festivals and parades. When all along the song and dance were romance with myself.

If the mirror of the world reflects my internal landscape, then changes may only occur inside, reflected upon the monitor of the war within time central. Characters neither enemies nor friends are sent as precise catalyst to produce the chemical, metaphysical and spiritual changes within. For this is the home of Spirit, this is the place where at present we meet God in the Throne Room.

Since the wrestling, struggling and arguing are generated by my own psyche and characters representing the fractured side of this man. Then, the will and challenge to achievement must be played out in mental topography, geography of the mind and the battles, diplomacy or victimhood between my shoulders.

In summation, my perceived struggle for I may have never had to fight, is with myself and the Spirit man emerging. Each juncture requires choice and refinement or avoidance, denial and projection upon a world innocent until held in narcissistic optics. I am seeking through ignorance to avoid God’s direction and thus am given every precise character, situation and episode to aid me in my choice of compliance or disobedience.

Convincing myself of mastery or dominion is easy for I must only convince myself. A character, who is naturally on board with all of its own projection and life couching. Therefore the realization and or consequence comes from the abrogation of consciousness or the acceptance of a false projection written internally by a man who desperately and cowardly wants always to be right. The hero of my own story. Failing to stop the play that I myself have written leaving me victim to my own choices and commands.

Loosened up my cap in hope of changing my perspective. Reliant on the Will of God to see the next iteration of me. Susceptible to the vain, darkened images of a mind thinking itself sufficient. Failing to acknowledge gravity, time and space doesn’t make them fade.

Hope is reaction to the oppression of indifference. The miles of fence travelled in lazy saunter never presented a comfortable spot for sitting. I’d rather be lazy than ambiguous about the things that make up border between right and wrong. Some thoughts are sloppy.

Is this cage of what makes me who I am? Who is the conductor if not this simple man determining the creatures allowed beyond captivity? In frequency I find repetition, in prediction I find defense from anxiety, in bridled worry I find complacency, slouch and expectation.

What is change but the thing that promises mystery, promise and unknown condition? Those who appreciate puzzle will seek the sharpening sands of time and the beveled edge of file. Never happy with self. Forever seeking those attitude adjustments that make new reactions norm.

In seeking solace from the storm will I miss the electrifying relief of fear or strong persuasion? What have I befriended that keeps me in the cave, looking on at shadows thinking them all real? There is no safe harbor even if I have convinced myself they exist in the shallows of my mind.

Hope is found in embrace of indecision, as the failure to react leaves us wanton for new behavior. Into the wind with protected vision my ever forward progress aids in my persuasion. To believe that the caustic nature of life and love are to be sought never avoided. For in the polish provided by the master I will become the man He planned.

Beside the bed a set of standing photos that nobody else would recognize. Gone into the history, memories and experience no one else would deem important to the passage of time. Yet God remembers and will ask me about how it benefitted the coming of our King. Where then too is the pain of those emotions, the wreckage of fallen dreams the forgotten stream of tears in fury, fear and loss? A man heals and though unchanged the remembered is forgotten.

How so well are you accustomed to the newfound lives? Changes fought now so aptly accepted and used for rampant birth of synapse, dendrite and axiomatic reason. Where then is the gray of so many wars against the prevalence and pertinence of on off or black, white? Where are the arguments and evidence asking for revisionist reality to save myself from battles lost against reality or daydream? how now does it not appear to matter these issues over which I bid life, liberty and identity?

Perspective, view and opinion. Voiced in moments that cannot be recalled loomed so impressive as to be worthy of ending relations. All the hours fought to save loves or familial bond that now are seen as caustic or corrosive. What truly is worthy of my vow or battle-hardened resolve? Where are the dreams and aspirations of children, elders and those things we swore against or for in our quest to float the waters? Where have the rivers flown as the horizon now clears and deserts traversed?

I cannot forget the wounds and scars upon a heart and mind. Yet, so readily into forgotten madness pour the names and characters I’ve known. How now are so very few things important? Random the faces of a past spent by a man who is unrecognizable to present. Too so few the people who have remained in peak importance. Is this my lack of faith, love or enduring bond, or just the price of life lived and mind changed by the wins, losses and forfeits essential to overcome?

I wish that I could make it alright for you with words, whispers and hugs. But your peace you alone must find as this is the blueprint inscribed upon your DNA to bring you into a decision with God. Though, a man like me may struggle, argue, teach or demand. Your Stand like your own feet are the only thing that will make you either immovable upon the Rock of Ages or swept away in the multitude of storms you must face either with Him or alone.

However, I am telling a story, giving description of God’s loving plan for each of us. Yes, you. He designed a perfect plan for you. All the trials and nastiness of the world is preparing you for one of two places that you will spend hereafter. For this story is actually about the one to follow. What you realize, practice and master now are actually the basic elements, behaviors and keys to readiness to live with God.

Though, now I have to imagine. My belief and faith now is fulfilled by my Living Eternally by His Side. If I could for a moment introduce you to Him through the pages, prayers and Spirit of His Word, perhaps you will begin to see the reason for His brief distance to establish the parameters of forever. How we interact with Him right now is the ignition to the engines of our service, interaction and Life everlasting.

I am so sorry for your pain. I watch as you struggle, fail and redouble your efforts to rise to your feet in the midst of artillery barrage and pray as I lend a hand to help you stand. For standing in the middle of great persecution, troouble or burden is key to a man or woman knowing they are not alone. For who by will of person will live a life alone, strong, unmoving and compassionate without the promise that endurance is achievement when it comes to living for the long day to come.

So, now I promise nothing but that which His Word would have you hold fast. Can I hand you keys and visions of the real before you that you may stick your fingers in His Side and hands? NO, for to believe when you have not seen is the greatest achievement in mind of man. Blessed are you who struggle through these trials and temptations in joy, even the mustard seed you’ve been given which seems barely enough.

Walk, crawl, stand against the winds and toil. For this resistance is the resilience known as Living. It is the first thing anyone will do when they have found reason and or purpose. For it is that place in your mind, that future you believe in that will make the hassles, battles and worries of today vital to reaching that dream of life with God. He awaits, he stands with you and that realization though you do not see Him will allow you to see His hand upon your life as you continue to plod along. Hope is the product of faithful hunting for the answers to the mysteries of this life and the waiting for the peace of the next.

One love. The Right Love. Not the sweet compromising love of pleasing others to obtain peace. The rugged yet gentle love of the shepherd standing in all-weather watching those who without that guard would perish or suffer the ravages of time and predator.

Yes, shepherd may Love truly, but not the honey covered, chocolate love or romantic fervor. For what relation may withstand the moment that God demands otherwise? What man may love His wife completely when God directs a path which challenges that doting?

When has a man reached that point where these choices, this life is no longer his own? Is it when wife may lay out a sequence or parameters that alleviate the direct response and immediate reaction in obedience to all that God commands?

How then does God bless this Holy Union? Does He reduce the requirement upon the shepherd who has found wife? Does He allow the disregard or change in focus upon the sheep known to wonder, ponder or flee? How does a man of God adjust or compromise in relationship with wife before God?

Can the man accustomed to prophet’s sweater find the silky comfort of marriage anything but complacency of purpose? Is there a paradigm that allows both to prosper? Is it truly two people coming together to do more than one may do alone? Is there a union before God that answers all respondents?

Paul warned against it for the man who would serve God fully. How then can anyone fool themselves beyond the words of Apostle and Spirit, believing himself beyond the effects common to such as have seen it through? What may I ask of you Lord when my joy is to give it all?

I am not declaring that God may never do the impossible, especially in men accustomed to seeing it done each day. Just questioning the faulty reasoning and hopeful thinking of any man who already knows the truth of Gospel. What compels each of us find that answer within? A reflection, perhaps it is Imago Dei?

Pride fails champions as they walk forward into knighthood. There is no hiding, retreat or recess to the locked gaze of faulty character. Within my actions imbued the charred resolve of a man who once thought himself capable of fury and everlasting flame. No salve, no repair, no refreshing term of solemnity. Only the crushing weight and depth of oceans in stellar blackness. Only there may my shame be hidden forever tainted by regret and remorse.

What then of forgiveness? Only given to them who have not failed in measure? Only offered to those claiming purity? Available the righteous on demand, thinking themselves beyond the definition of sin’s madness? Death is earned by each sin, regardless of magnitude or intent. Forgiveness is the blessing offered to the wicked and enjoyed by the pure. In it all may come to the second beginning, in which great repair is given not earned and even greater error of backslidden self-piety heaps up coals upon those who were to have chosen glory and peace.

It is easy to love you my good man or woman. Not easy to look aside of your certainty found in your own self-assumption and greatness. For in this personal viewing you are judge, jury and jailer of those who obviously live in fury, palsy or desperate clambering for survival. This is the travesty found in misunderstanding grace. Forgiveness given in repentance is heartfelt, received and treasured by the man who moments before possessed no hope. Taken for granted by those believing themselves ready at requesting.

Nothing I ever do or did will earn me entry to heaven. No piety, no behavior, no campaign of righteous works and order. Only God may gift me that which was never in my power to obtain. The requirements are subdued, hidden and redacted from the gospel offering of businesses who at any cost will keep the seats and coffers filled. Acknowledgement, repentance and surrender to the seal and filling of Spirit are the qualifications. Believing that God is offering terms of surrender in redemption and rebirth to live for Him.

Why is the Cornerstone their greatest cause for argument? Because He is the sole pathway to entry into Heaven. There is no other means or path to steal access to eternal presence with God. That Gift is given for Acknowledgement of our sin and the singularity of resolution found in Faith in Christ. The Cornerstone holds together the universe and to trip over it/HIM is to deny yourself access to its dimension and expanse. Nothing that I say or do will ever change one dot or slash of this Gospel. For I am impermanent without Him but with and through acknowledging His loving Grace I will carry on.

A smidgen of me, the dust, into which Sovereign breath sponsors life. I am not the most important component in this recipe of humanity. I am simply element within experiment within paradigm of achievement outside of my making or potential power in completion. What shall become is perfection to which I may be employed by a mind, hand and will beyond my own.

The extent of my contentment fully dependent upon my acceptance of this place made for me in the process of objectives beyond my contemplation. Certainly, visions provided assemble confidence within. That full application and investment of everything in my cannister is logical, faithful and the single path to the anomaly of Creation’s end and rebeginning.

How to fit the puzzle piece with borders set in stone to a mosaic in flux? What morphisms, malleability or ductility enter in allowance to achievement of extrusions beyond corporate tension and proximity? How to get from here to a place I have never been without firsthand knowledge of there or the road to my arrival? From whence comes the flexibility found to its realization?

A tool wields not itself in building or destruction of ethereal understanding. Only mind beyond the limits and parameters of this dimension may permutate the calculus. For discussion of spirit will never be entertained by soul without the surrender to its fragility. We are bound by time until we accept its defeat in resurrection and rebirth to heavenly messaging.

For all that is beyond remains unavailable for them within the conveyance or modality. Without the second breath from Sovereign bellow we are left incapable and inadequate, having been made for the lesser work of life in temporality. That which lay beyond, outside or folded into the lasagna of time, space and matter. May only be discovered through abdication of the adherence to that which holds us captive to limits of this realm.

Can the wound speak? Can the wound truly love? Can the wound hurl us into complete madness seeking an end to its unraveling control upon reality? I have never loved in the past. A horrible confession of a man led by internally wounded, past seeking validation and acknowledgement of the love I was never given through the attention and allegiance unavailable. Until the Lord first loved me I never knew truly what this greatest of life’s treasures was fulfilled.

I will not pursue you to answer the voices established by tragedy and mistreatment of my past. For I do not yearn but seek to be led by God into that which brings Glory to His name and fulfillment of His plan for this universe. What the yearning taught me when I obtained the object of its insatiable quest is that nothing was fulfilled but the instantaneous release of the quest for attention followed by a natural dismissal of the love which may not be found in substitution. The yearning could not find love only recurring pain in observance of a relentless mission to fulfill a slight of passed inadequacy.

The voice of the wound cannot and does not know love. For love is a decision, a choice an enduring covenant meant to pay its respects when yearnings and adoration are absent or long gone. When do you need love most? When you are unlovable, caught in the maelstrom’s of life. Ladies this is when you need a man’s love when the chips are down, you’ve got no answers and every safe space is locked or unavailable. This is when a man demonstrates the underpinnings of real love. When a man stays by your side in your worst, hurt and unworthy moments then he has made the choice to Love, as he made the choice to Love the Lord our God. For true love is offered and chosen by the recipient, never forced, coerced or established in the brief wonders of romance.

So, we must first have a good look at the trials of childhood and adolescence to see the formulation of any wounds to psyche that may be dictating irrational pursuits of our adult or inhibiting the healthy choices that adults make when confronted with Love’s offering. These voices especially when incited by the mention of someone truly in love with us are most often the greatest power of deception leading and controlling our decisions, emotions and feelings of abandonment, temporary fulfillment and yearning for that which we want but may not have.

Lord God, If I am to love let me do it as you have done for me. Let me love overlooking the deficiencies, inadequacies, quirks or mismanagement within the life of mates and colleagues. Instead let me see these things and decide that they are part of the offering of love for I cannot love a person completely without accepting the entire package or person, passion, pain and yes the inevitable revelation of wounds and weakness revealed by time in relationship. I do not wish to speak the romantic words of the yearning boy inside my heart. Rather I wish to demonstrate the evidence of faith, love and hope, by showing someone broken, happy or hopeless that I have made the greatest choice in life, to love them as God first loved me. In Jesus Name.

You asked me for some rationale for my victimhood, for my subsidy with tears. While I sit around and roll my eyes over the mug of public beers. I speak of lands so far away where my imaginary pain, ruled the town of me and my extraordinarily clever gain. But my illness is not the focus here nor my obvious unhealthy works. The only thing the press cares about is that I painted you as jerks. So wear the shirt I’ve sown for you and let me have my say. The only thing that they will hear is the story I portray. I cannot said the man full grown because the child screams so loud I am so proud of him as he controls me from the shadow of the shroud.

What is worthy of expectation to avail my prayers to God? Looking for the gainful things before His throne seems odd. To limit expectations and give to those in need never stands in tandem or alignment with your greed. So sacrosanct and needful that no cheek will ever dry to God and His good people deceived so by your cry. The Word will not avail you your tactics, your strategy and mission. Some would simply wonder why as they sit there in suspicion. We are loath to calculate how many use this ploy that considers the minds of men a malleable kid’s toy. The time has come for all good men to rise above considered, reanalysis employ.

You are not my problem, my obstacle or wall before my climb. Ignoring my aspirations or slight, imaginary crime. The dime or time you spent in convincing me to grow was all wasted on my determination to never grease my own elbow. The walls and wheels of effort are such a nasty term you must abhor my situation take pity on this worm. For the game is set against me for my color, my size, gender or my breed. Can’t you see alligator tears convince you of my need? There’s no end to my dilemma no answer to my plight. They’re much too strong the day too long to embrace a will to fight. For I have been defeated before this world began there some sovereign will against me some exasperating plan.

The joy of being boot boy is that humbly I love this work. And wear the shield that you would wield in labeling me a jerk. There is no one else with recourse or responsibility for my health. No one else to take my pulse and effort toward obtaining accomplishment and wealth. You see the will to want to make it may be all a man possesses. And his failures and attempts will count in the truth that he confesses. So shield yourself from misery, the imaginary pain of being too short, fat in woeful challenge to overcome the pain. For no one guarantees you the wealth, the health the peace and there’s no mystery or secret to the loss or great increase. The effort lies within you to become or stay the same. There’s no one else to share this burden for your personal blame or shame. So do it if you want to and if you don’t just sit down for this world is not a circus and we’ve got no need for one more clown.