July 26th, 2014

My Lord is not like any other. The other gods are jealous and murderous; the gods of lust,
power, and addiction would promise a moment of pleasure and then take all of me as payment.
My Lord wants me to smile under large skies of possibilities. He wants freedom and peace in a
fullness I have come to know as love. I can feel his pulse in the center of night and feel his
breath when I walk into fields of tall grass and wildflowers. It is sweet and his exhalation
against my body is the laugh of a father who watches as his child learns the world. I feel
his hand pressing me into sleep and then reaching to help me out of bed the next morning.
And still there are failings and siren calls and everything I have left drawing me back. How
can both things be true in such a small place as my heart? How can I want to please him and
be so willing to walk into the chains held before me? But they are so lovely, so polished, and
there is safety in their weight. These are frightening things to say, and scarier things to see.
There is a stairwell below everything and my specific shackles wait there, familiar and lovely,
and gently swaying against the crumbling brick wall to the beat of my heart and the clock.
It is not that time is running out, not exactly. It is that the fullness of things is thinning.