Difficult times.
Difficult issues.
And no, I'm not ashamed to admit it....I stumbled.
Very, very hard.
But I find myself picking the pieces up.
but who hasn't stumbled in their walk, and in their Walk?
The only difference here, though, is that it is so much harder to do so.
------------------
You know the instances where things-bad things-happen, not with one group of people, but with many, many others in a consistent pattern over a period of several years?
It's normal for that one person to think that "Hey, it's fine. Bad things happen to good people all the time, right?"
But it starts getting bad when that one person realises that when he is not in that group, they work very, very well.
And it happens so many times until it seems like that one person thinks that maybe he is the loose gear in the clockwork of the groups he has been in.
Was it truly a coincidence? Maybe I'm the curse to that group? Why does bad things always happen to the people around me when I come or do stuff?
No prizes for guessing who that one person is.
------------------------
I feel a little better getting this off my chest.
It hasn't completely disappeared yet, but a timely slap-metaphorically, of course-from a friend and a little reflection has set the train back on track, albeit a little too slowly.
Truth to be told, it still hurts. How could it not?
But healing is coming again.
What another friend said encouraged me a lot - Despite it all, despite everything that has happened, even though I'm literally crawling through this stage of life, at the very least, I'm still crawling.
Every bone cracked, every organ bruised, but still moving.
Every hope (save one) extinguished, every other talent taken away, but still alive.
The wounded soldier is moving back to where it matters, and moving forward to what should await him.
One day, one day....ONE DAY, he shall stand victorious, joy overflowing, talents returned, ready to be promoted for what he has been through and what he has done.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Chronicles of Iridescence, Chapter 116: Better or Worse
Is it better or worse to have someone not talk to you, or to have someone tell you something you don't want to hear?
Time and again, the same cycle repeats itself.
And if it keeps happening, sometimes for supposedly no good reason, the first reaction is to ask, "Why?"
That, is the rational side of me.
On the other hand, there are other voices.
One, unmistakably enticing at one point then condemning and mocking, cannot be mistaken for anything else other than The Enemy.
The other, I would elaborate.
It is...small. Tiny. Sometimes to a point where I can't even hear it.
A small voice that is encouraging, edifying. Egging me on to believe in myself and do things. Telling me that "You can do it" or "You're better than what you think of yourself."
Recently, it's been giving me the idea that I'm actually strong.
.......
Okay, after your laughter subsides, the rationale behind it is simple.
Being through things that may make you so small at times...How many countless times has it been?
Rejection, dejection, depression, disappointment, temptation, guilt.
How many? The voice asks. Not with the tone of a overbearing teacher or parent ready to berate the child, but with a tender tone.
"How many...?" For a dozen seconds or so, I actually seriously went to count it. There was that time I felt utterly rejected after, what, a dozen calls or so without a single reply? There was that time where I felt like totally giving up after failing time and again to shackle an addiction of mine. And the guilt with it - Felt like a weightlifter's barbells! Then there was another-
After a while, I gave up. "Are you kidding? There's too many to count!"
And where are you now?
"Where am I...?" I paused. The question seemed very vague, yet it should be something I know. "What do you mean?"
What do you think? The voice had a bright tint of humor to it and if there was a face to go with it, it will most certainly be smiling at me.
I thought hard, got lost a little here and there, then stumbled upon the answer.
"I'm still...here?"
You're still here.
"I'm still in the race."
Indeed you are.
"I'm still coming back to Him despite everything that has happened."
As many times as you needed and wanted.
"But how?"
Have you ever considered the notion that you might actually be strong?
"Huh?"
Have you ever considered that it was I who took away what you have and let things happen so you can be who you want to be and do what you always wanted to do?
--------------
Up till now, though, I still have difficulty believing that concept, despite the undeniable conviction from the voice. Despite the encouragement and edification from friends.
Am I actually strong?
I don't know....And I don't think I really am.
And the revelation that bad stuff is happening, and that I'm actually a lesser person that who I was before I met Him....
Difficult to swallow, isn't it?
The ultimate question came: Was this for the better or for the worse that I knew something like that?
Some, I imagine, would have turned to rationality. Some would have turned to knowledge. Others simply turn away.
And these are all things I have done before, which is to say that none of these are permanent.
I'm injured. Battered, bruised, beleaguered, crippled sometimes in the body and sometimes in the mind. Adding to the fact that the very one you wholly trusted tells you that He took away what you have for a good reason unknown to you...
It.....is for the better.
Because He has spoken. Because He has always loved me.
And because I am here.
Because I am alive.
And I truly hope that no matter what, the people who have gotten far (no matter the 'distance') from Him will return.
Return...and cast their cares upon Him.
Return, and sing with joy.
Time and again, the same cycle repeats itself.
And if it keeps happening, sometimes for supposedly no good reason, the first reaction is to ask, "Why?"
That, is the rational side of me.
On the other hand, there are other voices.
One, unmistakably enticing at one point then condemning and mocking, cannot be mistaken for anything else other than The Enemy.
The other, I would elaborate.
It is...small. Tiny. Sometimes to a point where I can't even hear it.
A small voice that is encouraging, edifying. Egging me on to believe in myself and do things. Telling me that "You can do it" or "You're better than what you think of yourself."
Recently, it's been giving me the idea that I'm actually strong.
.......
Okay, after your laughter subsides, the rationale behind it is simple.
Being through things that may make you so small at times...How many countless times has it been?
Rejection, dejection, depression, disappointment, temptation, guilt.
How many? The voice asks. Not with the tone of a overbearing teacher or parent ready to berate the child, but with a tender tone.
"How many...?" For a dozen seconds or so, I actually seriously went to count it. There was that time I felt utterly rejected after, what, a dozen calls or so without a single reply? There was that time where I felt like totally giving up after failing time and again to shackle an addiction of mine. And the guilt with it - Felt like a weightlifter's barbells! Then there was another-
After a while, I gave up. "Are you kidding? There's too many to count!"
And where are you now?
"Where am I...?" I paused. The question seemed very vague, yet it should be something I know. "What do you mean?"
What do you think? The voice had a bright tint of humor to it and if there was a face to go with it, it will most certainly be smiling at me.
I thought hard, got lost a little here and there, then stumbled upon the answer.
"I'm still...here?"
You're still here.
"I'm still in the race."
Indeed you are.
"I'm still coming back to Him despite everything that has happened."
As many times as you needed and wanted.
"But how?"
Have you ever considered the notion that you might actually be strong?
"Huh?"
Have you ever considered that it was I who took away what you have and let things happen so you can be who you want to be and do what you always wanted to do?
--------------
Up till now, though, I still have difficulty believing that concept, despite the undeniable conviction from the voice. Despite the encouragement and edification from friends.
Am I actually strong?
I don't know....And I don't think I really am.
And the revelation that bad stuff is happening, and that I'm actually a lesser person that who I was before I met Him....
Difficult to swallow, isn't it?
The ultimate question came: Was this for the better or for the worse that I knew something like that?
Some, I imagine, would have turned to rationality. Some would have turned to knowledge. Others simply turn away.
And these are all things I have done before, which is to say that none of these are permanent.
I'm injured. Battered, bruised, beleaguered, crippled sometimes in the body and sometimes in the mind. Adding to the fact that the very one you wholly trusted tells you that He took away what you have for a good reason unknown to you...
It.....is for the better.
Because He has spoken. Because He has always loved me.
And because I am here.
Because I am alive.
And I truly hope that no matter what, the people who have gotten far (no matter the 'distance') from Him will return.
Return...and cast their cares upon Him.
Return, and sing with joy.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Chronicles of Iridescence, Chapter 115: Reminiscing Blues
Been tired throughout the whole week. Something to do with dark thoughts and grey moods, I suspect, considering that I have dreams of the similar nature, of the same topic over and over whenever I try to sleep early.
And then it becomes a habit to sleep late.
Recently, those thoughts keep coming back.
What if I had been able to grab hold of the opportunities?
What if I had been more aware?
What if I had been bolder and more willing - despite the twists in my personality - to step forward and break through the walls, perhaps even a little forcefully but confidently?
What if I had went ahead?
What if.....?
Damn it....Too many 'what ifs'.
It's difficult to let the past lie, considering how you were given affirmation and then....Nothing.
Sometimes making a decision and carrying it out are two different things.
Maybe it will be as the saying goes, that 'Time will heal old wounds'.
But if there's a way to simply wipe everything away....As much as I hate to say it...
So be it.
And then it becomes a habit to sleep late.
Recently, those thoughts keep coming back.
What if I had been able to grab hold of the opportunities?
What if I had been more aware?
What if I had been bolder and more willing - despite the twists in my personality - to step forward and break through the walls, perhaps even a little forcefully but confidently?
What if I had went ahead?
What if.....?
Damn it....Too many 'what ifs'.
It's difficult to let the past lie, considering how you were given affirmation and then....Nothing.
Sometimes making a decision and carrying it out are two different things.
Maybe it will be as the saying goes, that 'Time will heal old wounds'.
But if there's a way to simply wipe everything away....As much as I hate to say it...
So be it.
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