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I can feel my breath constricting and in my throat all my bones are strangely shifting. As I try to form words all the little muscular cords move not in the way I need and the noise that leaves my lips scrapes its way over my teeth to fall unintelligibly on every ear my way.

My lungs fill with oxygen as I grip my breath to try again, but my knees fail me because I don’t have the focus to control more than one thing at a time; as I bring what’s drilling into my mind out painfully through my heart. It’s beating too fast so maybe that’s why my words are choppy; they get cut in two with every compression then flung out too far when the pressure lets up again.

I can feel my soul, hand over hand, forcing its way out of my tear ducts. I drop my head hardly believing my luck that the only one who can make sense of what is happening happens to be the one right next to me. Invisible as he is indivisible and as thoroughly real as all my fears; I can feel him here answering my prayers. Siphoning off all my burdening cares.

Is it any wonder we sing and weep with one breath, we can hardly understand the peace that comes with true rest. I know I will ensnare myself again, but in this delicious, precious moment my every joint and sinew is relaxed and my spirit is flung far from my proud, sinful neck as I rise out of myself and the spaces in between my ribs are filled with something else; all the way to my every marrow. The Holy Spirit articulate; I am at the same time now evenly hallow and filled as with a yoke, perfectly fit.

Though I have never understood how my constantly rotting, skin shedding, physiologically from birth failing, shell can be the medium of the Conquerer of Hell, somehow when I collapse on my knees a power undefeated is bestowed on my breath. As my reeking false tongue begins to tingle with burning, purifying embers the Will of God, the thundering first word of the ever increasing universe, fall from my lips and are sent flinging through the deteriorating chaos of physics to the resolute throne of God. God who can at whim reach into the heart of the sun simply to enjoy its glow and who with a promise catches every prayer and moaning from dingy, unilluminating man and returns to him the creating, healing, truth binding power of inmost heaven.

How can we be so empowered at any human hour that the diseases of humanity are still bleeding through the depths of the earth so superfluously? If we can touch the torch of blinding heaven and take back our hand unburnt then why is so much of our world still collapsing in the dark and isn’t it then, our fault? Most of the time thanking God for a burger and fries is so much of a hassle that we give him less courtesy than we do the drive through so I suppose there should be no shock at the sound of guns shots in crowded rooms, lies from the lips of those who dare to be the leaders of so ill a country, or the emptiness when echoes should be filled with praise and mercy. We have so much practice plugging up our ears from the grieved Ghost of Host that it makes sense we can’t hear our fellow man either, pagan or believer.

If we don’t start breaking more change than our wallets then I guess we deserve to live in a world that has lost it, but don’t you feel that gripping sensation? That whisper that sounds more like shouting from a distance? Maybe we should start to listen, and after the listening we should start speaking, not on podiums or stage fronts, but on the carpet and the back of the city bus for the courage to bear the blessing of God who is there waiting to take back the darkness that a world has thrust blindly over themselves in angry distrust.

Maybe then things, or how we feel about them, would be different; and that’s a start worth its target.



One Comment

  1. Thanks John, that means a lot!

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