I have a hard time setting goals. Because, even when the goal is achieved. There lies a void on the other side. An Abyss just beyond the success of triumph.
If I run a marathon and train for a year to do it, then what? I have many many such accomplishments to my name. Things that I've done, that to most would seem good and satisfying but, I feel no different for having participated in the climb, the summit or the descent.
But to me there is a victory, an ultimate victory. A paramount success that is tangible and possible. It is to be free.
I had it once. It was a long long time ago but, I was free. I didn't know what it meant at the time and so I lost it. I abused it. I asked the Lord to take it away from me. Break my leg like a Lamb until I could hear His voice and understand His instruction.
And so he crippled me. And when it was time for me to walk again, I failed again.
I then tried to free myself but, I failed and made it worse. I tried to fix a temporary problem with a permanent solution.
And the longer that time goes by, the more my hope fades. And my will to fight goes with it. All my efforts to fix it fail.
And its like having cancer. I fight it but, eventually I can't bear to look at it any more. So I try to take my mind off of it. I play solitaire, eat lots of food, or I sleep. I grow restless with myself. I can't even play video games because I know what I ought to be doing. I can still feel the man that I know I'm supposed to be.
Every good and right thing feels like a facade. As if I'm playing charades, because of this thing that has shackled itself to me. I go to fold my clothes, or buy new ones and I can't bring myself to do it. I think, "why bother, they will be soiled again and again, many times over and you will still not be free." I feel like a Leper, masquerading as a normal person. Living in constant fear of being seen, I hide away. I do not guard myself against vice and I tolerate it in others. I don't see the point in trying to promote honor when I am not free. A compromised person cannot have leverage to promote good or honorable virtues. And so, I simply do not exist.
In this inexistence, water does not quench thirst, nor food hunger. No game is joyful, no victory is savored. No sorrow is real and No love is true. It is shameful and hollow, where it could be so much more. Everything is a distraction.
But I don't know how to get there from here. I've forgotten how to fly. I crawl like a cripple. I know I must learn to walk so that I can run. I know that I must run so that I can fly. And I know that I must fly, if I'm ever going to make it home.
My heart has built for itself a bulwark against scrutiny. My mind and my tongue are sharpened by time and study, to ward off criticism and pity. Like a wounded animal stuck in a trap, I fight, I cry, I claw and eventually I succumb to the device. My hope fades, and my reason for fighting seems to slip out of memory.
I would see myself restored. I would have my conscience to be clear. I would bring to bear all virtue. I would be that man that I set out to be. Uncompromised, unwavering and resolute, a champion of all that is good and right. In plain sight of all men, I would stand upright and true.
But this embarrassing creature cannot know love, cannot know triumph, cannot taste victory. He is simply staving off defeat. Hoping that hope is not lost, he misers forth, inches from success, yet it is beyond his grasp.
I do not wish for pity, or help however it would come. I serve this as a warning.
Do not sin.
If I run a marathon and train for a year to do it, then what? I have many many such accomplishments to my name. Things that I've done, that to most would seem good and satisfying but, I feel no different for having participated in the climb, the summit or the descent.
But to me there is a victory, an ultimate victory. A paramount success that is tangible and possible. It is to be free.
I had it once. It was a long long time ago but, I was free. I didn't know what it meant at the time and so I lost it. I abused it. I asked the Lord to take it away from me. Break my leg like a Lamb until I could hear His voice and understand His instruction.
And so he crippled me. And when it was time for me to walk again, I failed again.
I then tried to free myself but, I failed and made it worse. I tried to fix a temporary problem with a permanent solution.
And the longer that time goes by, the more my hope fades. And my will to fight goes with it. All my efforts to fix it fail.
And its like having cancer. I fight it but, eventually I can't bear to look at it any more. So I try to take my mind off of it. I play solitaire, eat lots of food, or I sleep. I grow restless with myself. I can't even play video games because I know what I ought to be doing. I can still feel the man that I know I'm supposed to be.
Every good and right thing feels like a facade. As if I'm playing charades, because of this thing that has shackled itself to me. I go to fold my clothes, or buy new ones and I can't bring myself to do it. I think, "why bother, they will be soiled again and again, many times over and you will still not be free." I feel like a Leper, masquerading as a normal person. Living in constant fear of being seen, I hide away. I do not guard myself against vice and I tolerate it in others. I don't see the point in trying to promote honor when I am not free. A compromised person cannot have leverage to promote good or honorable virtues. And so, I simply do not exist.
In this inexistence, water does not quench thirst, nor food hunger. No game is joyful, no victory is savored. No sorrow is real and No love is true. It is shameful and hollow, where it could be so much more. Everything is a distraction.
But I don't know how to get there from here. I've forgotten how to fly. I crawl like a cripple. I know I must learn to walk so that I can run. I know that I must run so that I can fly. And I know that I must fly, if I'm ever going to make it home.
My heart has built for itself a bulwark against scrutiny. My mind and my tongue are sharpened by time and study, to ward off criticism and pity. Like a wounded animal stuck in a trap, I fight, I cry, I claw and eventually I succumb to the device. My hope fades, and my reason for fighting seems to slip out of memory.
I would see myself restored. I would have my conscience to be clear. I would bring to bear all virtue. I would be that man that I set out to be. Uncompromised, unwavering and resolute, a champion of all that is good and right. In plain sight of all men, I would stand upright and true.
But this embarrassing creature cannot know love, cannot know triumph, cannot taste victory. He is simply staving off defeat. Hoping that hope is not lost, he misers forth, inches from success, yet it is beyond his grasp.
I do not wish for pity, or help however it would come. I serve this as a warning.
Do not sin.