(dis)life

Disappointment, Dismay, Disbelief, Discouraged, Dissatisfied - Sometimes it seems my life is better characterized by (dis)life. These little words that start out as small threads of thoughts that weave their way through my soul, seemingly causing little harm until I wake up one day and I am ensnared in a web of (dis)life. I wish I could take a stick and wipe it away like I would an ordinary spider web, but this web of (dis)life doesn't leave that easily. It is an attractive cesspool that I enjoy sitting in way too much. I know it stinks but it feels warm and comfortable, focused on me, myself, I. Thankfully, I have tasted enough of LIFE to know that (dis)life is not really LIFE, that there is no joy, no hope, no courage in living it. It is always difficult to rouse myself from it; in fact without HIM I don't the web would ever be broken. But He always breaks it, even though He knows that I will start to weave that web again.

Attracted
to the stench of death.
A dead pig
bloated in the sun,
In my eyes, Thanksgiving feast laid before me.
A mirage in the desert of sin
where my heart so often wanders,
dehydrated and dry like a raisin,
searching in all the wrong places for the water of life.
Climbing the highest dune to search for a breath of fresh air,
I am hit, head-on, by the dark brilliance of the reality I am in.
To fly, be lifted up and leave this place,
my deepest desire
But time and again I am attracted
to the stench of death,
The potent poison turned perfume by the master of disguises,
The dark Lord who rules this land,
and tempts me with lies of all he has to offer.
He has tried this before, with One greater than I,
Offering the kingdoms of the world.
But he failed and fled,
And now he passes time playing games with me.
Rescue me, Oh Lord.
Lift up your servant and set him on paths that lead to your throne,
Where I may spend the remainder of eternity praising you.
Have mercy on me,
And may your grace extend to every part of this life,
washing away the mud that has turned to rock.
I cannot loose these chains alone,
and indeed human nature binds them all the tighter around my neck.
Please Lord,
Make me into the man that you imagined me to be
before the creation of the world.