What are we to do once we're hardened and numb? The pastor preached and gave the alter call, but it was like I had no legs and he was demanding that I run. If I'm frozen sold in my cold inner environment, what am I to do with this command to be soft and warm? It's like being sick and in a bad mood and having someone tell me that right now I can jump for joy and be overwhelmed by God's love.
Preachers sometime seem to commanding emotions; but I cannot cry right now, even if I want to, I don't have that power to create intense feelings on the spot. It's horrible to have a heart of stone and remember those words from God "If you will hear my voice, do not harden your hearts". The nature of a hard heart is it could careless and is indifferent, think about that... If I am neck deep and surrounded by concrete, my little head can look around seeing how stuck I am, But I can't move my arms. I feel clueless on how to change my state of being.
I was a total outsider, unspiritual, a mere moral heathen in church, I could not enter into worship, I could not think about the Lord. I set down and draw a picture while he preached and then left church during the alter call.
But I will rejoice, for this is just a season and it will past, like all the other times I've been here. But still, what a bummer that I don't feel any stronger or wiser when I re-enter these times, one of these days I want to be able to walk away and not say that I'm like a man with no legs being commanded to walk. I want to be proven wrong, I want the truth that we can do all things through Him, to sweep me away and rebuke my cynical heart.
So what exactly is this thing we call hope?
Is it some kind of longing or a written confession?
Does it result in some sort kind of action?
So what exactly is this thing we call trust?
Sure I see specific examples of it in my past
But I am talking about now, here in the present
Oh all these words I throw out without understanding
I assume I know their meaning
And make grand conclusions
creating elaborate paintings
Oh but wait, what was I thinking?
I lay here stuck, frozen
And trying to enlighten this mind
Only tighten the chains
I guess these assumptions are a sort of fuel
That dries up the moment one begins to ponder
Which in turn leaves us stranded
Maybe this ignorance is bliss
It does keep us going
But to where? An oasis or an abyss?
Analyzing cuts in pieces
Our priceless master-pieces
Oh is it worth the high cost?
Oh but our lives are falling to pieces
Should we not sort the pieces?
It does not seem unwise
Maybe if I could just get some understanding
Oh if these words could take on weight and meaning
Maybe the scale would finally lean in my direction
I hate my insights, my sermons, my teachings
I am no different, I am like the rest, I carry on and on
Proclaiming things that ring true and sounds so intelligent
But are nothing more then commends to get out of the road
to a deaf, armless, legless, drying, poverty stricken man
But should I seal my month and never again speak?
