Just to get through the morning

Today is a day of rest
I need to rest my body.
So today is a day of rest.
Rest painful knees and hamstrings
Both are saying, ‘yes, this you must do—rest.’
I need to rest my mind
Even while anxiety says, ‘NO NO, GO, Get Busy.’
I need to rest my mind

Who is in charge here?

Here is the boldest statement I can make this morning even before I know if it is true:
I am in Christ.
I am going through trials in Christ, with Christ.
Who is prosecuting?
Who is defending?
What is the crime?
I’m Charged with faithlessness-doubt-fear.
Guilty as charged!

Here Ye Hear Ye! Will all perpetrators victims and witness’ please be still. I’m on trial, tried and convicted, sentenced and incarcerated to a torture in a self-designed living hell cell of of self-righteous self will.

Why do I wake each morning to such darkness?

Why wake thinking such dark thoughts?

My woe invades her scripture based morning life. I see the tears she sheds reacting to my acerbic rantings and the toxic atmosphere I bathe her in. Our morning should be loving, peaceful, at least something like the Hallmark’s Morning Light Christmas card. There should be words of life and light and love, but there aren’t. The words I speak hurt us all.

I am invested in a thought: truth can be found or hidden in words. The Word was with God. There are many times words are tools for fools. Present company included. Words can be building blocks of castles of hope. Words can be thoughtful to caress, thoughtless to curse. Words can be banked upon or doubted in. Words carry faith or fear.

Words—thoughts—Words—which comes first?

Words—creations of inspirations of condemnations.

Words of darkness or light—Words of trampled on metaphors.

*This is an excerpt from the delusional book entitled The Next 70 Years
this piece was originally titled,
The Next 70 Minutes but ran way beyond that!

I sit in a dark posture and feel the pain of discomfort. Aright myself to  better balance, falling neither right or left. Erect with my head pointing towards the road ahead. Go now–choose pit or spire, hot or cold. Accept clichés and wait for the next door to open. Suffer in silence when wisdom and inspiration flee to a hidden place playing the word game of hide and seek messing with desires to fight the good fight—with words. It can happen, it will happen if the desire to bail is squashed. There will come a point in this journey when the life exercise of escape with words seems just  a foolishness, pointless and a waste of Gods given time. Then the words: Dig deeper to go higher appear on the page—divine direction? 

Picture in your mind of a hand holding a pen, hovering over a blue lined page in a black bound composition book. The title “THE NEXT 70 YEARS”  has been hastily written in brown markup ink on the cover. Just another book of so many books full of words. A cradled head held in left hand as leaning over the page. Find the right phrase, the perfect words, true meanings that are screaming in your mind and your soul to get from within to down on the page. Determined to turn a good phrase—for God’s sake.

I paint a word picture of battles and struggles in order to repair whats broken in hopes of effect a mood of hope and healing. I desire to design a recipe of phrases and feel the feel of positive energy as I leap frog from word to word.

Is this positive cognitive self therapy or time wasting? This could go on all day. What in Gods name is going on here at 8:25AM (now its 12:30PM) we’re looking for a clue. Point me to a point that is the point. I can’t enjoy being on the bicycle today. I’m tired and sore and beat up from yesterdays attempted escape.

The Great Escape!

Escape the demon(s). Put them in the light and they evaporate. Out race them, put them behind me while I ride a bicycle beyond my means. Write a serpentine trail to and from what may or may not be a called a worthy effort at self rescue.

Self rescue is the name of a fools game. With only one player on the team failure is guaranteed. No matter how many you think you have in your head it’s only who’s in your heart and on you mind that matters and can negate spiritual failure. 

Pen and paper are my pick and shovel to dig deeper and go higher. Finally I’ve come to the end of another multi hour mission of hide and seek with words, words that have kept me off the streets, kept me indoors minding my mind and soul for some solace, peace and purpose.

*This is an excerpt from the delusional book entitled The Next 70 Years
this piece was originally titled,
The Next 70 Minutes but ran way beyond that! 

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