I stand facing the foundation of the house I have built.
Surrounding it and me (for as far as the eye can see) is the debris from catastrophic events initiated by my own hands and the hands I have hired. Still the destruction surprises me despite the warning signs I have ignored at every regressive stage.
The dust is settling and the noises have ceased. Yet my ear drums are still throbbing from the clamoring. I wipe the pain and splinter invoked tears from my eyes. Hopelessness accompanied by grief hung on me like a yoke strapped to a beast of burden when the structure collapsed over a month ago.
Some "on-lookers" were relieved that the dilapidated structure finally fell. Others, when they see me, still gaze with pity and hold a little tighter to what they have - grateful it is not them standing in my place. Yet, there are my friends and loyal companions who rush to my side with kind words and able hands to aid in the clean up. Rain begins to fall clearing the remaining dust still lingering in the air. I can see the sun.
I cover my eyes from the glare. In the distance I see a figure approaching. I think I know Him; but it's been a while. He walks with authority and determination. Initially, my spirit within me quivers with fear and shame. Yet, it is futile to try to hide what I have done. Then I see His face. The disappointment and pain of what I am going through is marked in His eyes and it cuts me to the bone. I shed tears I thought had dried.
The Hero holds me up as my body is weak from my self-inflicted trauma. His eyes change from pain to purpose wiping the streaks from my dingy cheeks. We turn around and look at the mess I have made. There is no denying what has happened. My grip on His strong arm tightens as I survey the daunting task of cleaning it all up. I shamefully admit, "I just can't do it. I can't fix it. This is just too big for me."
My Hero responds with a grin, "That's what I have been waiting to hear." Suddenly a masterful mystical crew of workers arrives on the scene attending to my needs, nursing my wounds, cleaning up the destruction, and blessing those who have stood by me despite my gross imperfection. Humility overwhelms my hopelessness and gratitude replaces the grief.
Today I stand at ground zero where the Architect has graciously assumed the chore of making over my life. He has cleaned up what I have destroyed and is building a perfect foundation to replace the unstable one I so arrogantly thought I could construct my way on my own. He will decide when the project is complete, but today I already like how much better it looks.
Surrounding it and me (for as far as the eye can see) is the debris from catastrophic events initiated by my own hands and the hands I have hired. Still the destruction surprises me despite the warning signs I have ignored at every regressive stage.
The dust is settling and the noises have ceased. Yet my ear drums are still throbbing from the clamoring. I wipe the pain and splinter invoked tears from my eyes. Hopelessness accompanied by grief hung on me like a yoke strapped to a beast of burden when the structure collapsed over a month ago.
Some "on-lookers" were relieved that the dilapidated structure finally fell. Others, when they see me, still gaze with pity and hold a little tighter to what they have - grateful it is not them standing in my place. Yet, there are my friends and loyal companions who rush to my side with kind words and able hands to aid in the clean up. Rain begins to fall clearing the remaining dust still lingering in the air. I can see the sun.
I cover my eyes from the glare. In the distance I see a figure approaching. I think I know Him; but it's been a while. He walks with authority and determination. Initially, my spirit within me quivers with fear and shame. Yet, it is futile to try to hide what I have done. Then I see His face. The disappointment and pain of what I am going through is marked in His eyes and it cuts me to the bone. I shed tears I thought had dried.
The Hero holds me up as my body is weak from my self-inflicted trauma. His eyes change from pain to purpose wiping the streaks from my dingy cheeks. We turn around and look at the mess I have made. There is no denying what has happened. My grip on His strong arm tightens as I survey the daunting task of cleaning it all up. I shamefully admit, "I just can't do it. I can't fix it. This is just too big for me."
My Hero responds with a grin, "That's what I have been waiting to hear." Suddenly a masterful mystical crew of workers arrives on the scene attending to my needs, nursing my wounds, cleaning up the destruction, and blessing those who have stood by me despite my gross imperfection. Humility overwhelms my hopelessness and gratitude replaces the grief.
Today I stand at ground zero where the Architect has graciously assumed the chore of making over my life. He has cleaned up what I have destroyed and is building a perfect foundation to replace the unstable one I so arrogantly thought I could construct my way on my own. He will decide when the project is complete, but today I already like how much better it looks.
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