Focusing Through Blurry Eyes

It’s full of moments when speaking is incapable.
It’s full of pauses when breathing is inconceivable.
It’s full of questions when sense has been hijacked and no ransom can be offered for its whole return.

We take our turns reacting and responding. We forget amidst the bullets and barbs and bleeding that words can puncture and take away spirits just as swiftly and mercilessly. We scream our right to ideals and opinions. We clutch our brazen notions in one hand while justifying it with a tattered flag in the other – when maybe what we should be doing is clutching our broken hearts in its pieces and justifying its mend with a tattered cross.



Yes, we have our thoughts. Yes we have our emotions. Most of what pours forth from us in these times feels as if it has no valve to control the flow. We gush. We empty. We weep.

And here me now: to feel is not to ere.
To react is not to fault.
Yet if we cannot admit that we are creatures with choices and actions,
if we say we have no responsibility how we act in a moment because we’re so fired up or we’re so enraged or we’re so scared that we can’t help ourselves….tell me please, how are we then different from those we call monsters?
Because the heavy dose of truth that needs to land smack into our hearts is that we do have control.
We do belong to a race that is given choice.
And it is those choices to which we are held accountable.
      I come on broken knees. Knowing I am one who has feigned ‘no-control’ at my own times. I do not pretend to be a foreigner to this fallen race. I am a local. Born and raised in this sin drenched world. I let my emotions rule me too often for comfort. I cry out in self-righteousness. I hide behind sensitivity when what I’m really doing is making everything about me – being offended at the drop of a hat because I have an outstanding ability to twist and contort words, behaviors, lack of interest – anything – into a personal attack. I let bitterness win on certain days. I let dejection rule over others. I let fear wield machetes and hack everything that could be good or enriching.
I come on broken knees.
So let us see each other as fellow kneelers, not as opposing enemies in the fight against evil. Love, we are on the same side in that fight. All of us. We plead for Goodness to step on that mountain swiftly. We beg for the binding of sinister seething once and for all.
We are all the brokenhearted. So please let us see to the mending of one another’s hearts rather than the accusation. Let us grasp hands and join in giving all the fear, anger, heartache, loss, wounds, blood and tears to the Healer of every atom, every chromosome, ever slice that should never have been.

 

“Surely He has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed Him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
But He was pierced for our transgressions;
    He was crushed for our iniquities;
upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with His wounds we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on Him
    the iniquity of us all.” (Isa 53:4-6)
Let our final cry be unified with one another instead of against.
May we hold fast to His mercy and grace.
May we yearn for a swift delivery of what we truly need:
        “We bow our hearts, we bend our knees
          O Spirit come make us humble
          We turn our eyes from evil things
          O Lord we cast down our idols
          So give us clean hands, give us pure hearts
          Let us not lift our souls to another
          O give us clean hands, give us pure hearts
          Let us not life our souls to another
          O God let us be a generation that seeks
          That seeks Your face, O God of Jacob…”
And remember. Jacob taught us that it’s ok to wrestle with God. To not understand and to ask and seek and push…and to request (strongly!) His blessing upon us. We will walk this world with a limp because we know how it is, is so not how it should be. We have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. How can we not be dejected by the filth that precedes such glory? But strain heavenward every day. Move to see the splendor. And encourage one another to do the same.
*Clicking on the pictures will take you to the site of origin. Thank you to the photographers who shared their work on Flickr.*

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