Last Exit Before Oblivion

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

I used to think that was another metaphor, someone's idea of the ideal Christian life. It turns out to be simple truth.

I don't know if it's my usual "I don't care" defense. Maybe I'm just throwing everything away in an attempt to distract God. Or maybe it's a dawning realization that to run from God is to be a branch without a tree, a baby without a mother. It could be a passing phase, but not even sand sculpture keeps my fire lit these days. I'd give up if not for God's hand on me.

All I can do is keep walking. Deal with what is, not what I want things to be. The world, God, and the universe don't work to my specifications. I can only learn the reality of them and hope I'm not crushed in the process.

So many ways to die, and most of them start with giving up. I've fought tooth and nail at times to keep my self-awareness, like a junkyard dog backed into a corner. This, I say, you will not take from me. And now those things I defended so strenuously are just... fading away. Yet I don't die. I feel life coming from God and while living feels like dragging a sack of rocks through a desert, there is something that makes it worthwhile. I don't look forward to each day, but perhaps beyond this day there will be something better.

Will that something better be based on what's available here? In part, maybe. Real life comes from God. Real life, a thread of connection through which comes what desire to live that I have, comes out of my belief. Or, more likely, God's belief in me.

All I can do is keep going. God has promised to do things, he's doing them, and... I wait.