Tuesday, November 27, 2007

A Lighthouse

Wanting will never, ever be doing. I can hope for hopes and want forever, but if thoughts never become action, if words never become speech, it has all been lost. Truly, the hopes and the ambitions of men are stifled daily. We feel deep within our psychology that we're wired for something more. That we have some kind of answer. It feels a little like words without speech.
And these dreams stay as silent as unconfessed sins. The self-loathing increases, parallels our apathy. Pushing us further from shore, drifting to sea, towards the big waves.

But, when we think about God, our Lighthouse, built into the sturdy frame of the mainland, we can see the beaming light, dancing in the horizon with the stars. A pale yellow flicker against the backdrop. Beckoning the ships home with each revolution, there always, shining through the fog.

I'm still a long ways off. I know I am, but I can't help but feeling the pull of God's current throughout my days.

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