Alabaster Jar

This alabaster jar, is all I have of worth. I break it at your feet, Lord. It’s less than you deserve.

You’re far more beautiful, more precious than the oil. The sum of my desires, and the fullness of my joy.

Death

I feel like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

I don’t think I have ever felt more threatened in my life. Something that is completely and utterly beyond my control, the feeling that at any moment something terrible will happen and I will have to give up the plans that I have for the rest of my life, the taste of death.

I wonder how it will feel like. I wonder how it will feel like afterwards.

Truly there is no better way, than to trust in God. Because only he knows if I will die tomorrow. And if he wants me to die tomorrow, it will be for the best.

Trust in God.

Truth

My God died for me.

Moments

Yesterday was the happiest day in a long time.

There weren’t a million rainbows and shooting stars didn’t fall out from the sky. I didn’t get a new computer, or phone, or camera. I got home exhausted with a million things to do, undone. And yet.

My family went to the arcade, and we played and laughed and shot basketballs into moving hoops.

I got up this morning and it felt like a dream.

Commitment

There are a lot of reasons I stopped writing, but it seems as though they are almost too painful to talk about. I will save these for another time, for when my words will all tumble out perfectly, along with all of the pain that has been suffocating me, to make sense of all the things that currently do not.

It is very difficult for commitment to carry through, and perhaps I shall start to grow up. I’ll be committed to being committed.

Submission

How amazing it must feel, to lay all your insecurities, your weaknesses, your flaws and shortcomings, all that you are, no more, no less, no weaving of anything extraordinary, for the sake of your better face. Lay them all bare, at the feet of someone who accepts, forgives, and carries you through it all.
Please, God. Make me learn how.

War

War isn’t just on the battlefields of Iraq, in the lives of tortured civilians, or in the chambers of the White House.

War isn’t some faraway notion of bombs, of clouds of dust in barren lands, or underground hiding caves. It isn’t something only the army has experienced, isn’t a stranger to men in the comfort of their shattered homes, isn’t an intruding fool in the lives of abated housewives and beaten children. War is not all politics, is no one-up game, has no clear cut defining moment at which the end is declared. It is not clean, not good, not righteous, not moral.

And yet we still engage in it. Countries still unleash armies and tanks upon each other’s land, territory, civilians, traditions. Races and ethnicities still clash and discriminate, cultures still collide and take over empty minds and heritage-less souls. Families still feud and hate. People still are hurt, are wounded, still die. Minds tortured and used.

Hearts flogged and broken.