Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the LORD, and will bring you back from captivity.
Swirling, twirling ever deeper, ever darker, down, down we go into a grave of our own making.
Grieving the Maker of heaven and earth.
Taking others with us on the way. Hurting those we supposedly love. Hurting ourselves — in that potentially irreparable way only hindsight will prove.
Until we die.
Maybe not physically but definitely spiritually.
So just don’t do it. Regrets make miserable bedfellows.
Stolen waters of many kinds may indeed taste sweet going down, but in reality corrode. The wages of sin is death, but yet we live. Only it’s a half life drained of blood and lacking oxygen.
And we stumble like zombies in the cold night air and cry tears that fall like ash from our eyes. Kicking and screaming, we utter profane words against our hearts, cursing ourselves as one already accursed.
All our hope now an acrid vapor. Cremated.
Or is it?
Like the New Year just begun, God’s mercies are new.
And every morning He gives us a fresh start, forgetting the former things, making all brand new.
We agree with God that we were wrong and He is (always) right. We confess our sins to each other so that we might be healed.
And healing usually comes in stages and recovery can be slow like molasses in January as we stumble along on broken legs, dragging a chain forged by our heavy metal madness.
And our flesh can rage and roil, lashing out at phantoms from our past or at no one at all. Or God forbid our very nearest and dearest. And sometimes, even against Him that gives and sustains our lives.
The One without whom we could not even take our very next breath.
Until something someday may click such as significant loss or a dangerous consequence. Or perhaps, a soft word fitly spoken shall be as an apple of gold in a setting of silver, melted down and poured out into a key that unlocks the carefully tucked away secrets that have enslaved us way too long.
Only we must reach out and take hold of that key.
Putting our hand into the hand of the key bearer.
Lord, forgive me.
As we surrender into His arms He’ll carry us till our bruises bleed no longer and we are strong enough to stand on our own.
Yet, we are not infants like Mary’s babe who came to this earth to save us. We are toddlers in big bodies and the time has come to cast away the pacifier and woobie and set out into the deep.
Refusing to eat another morsel of milk toast, let’s belly up to the banqueting table with knife and fork in hand ready to dine on succulent, slow roasted fare unlike anything we have ever savored.
Won’t you taste and see that God is good?
And His plans for you are good, to give you a hope and a future. A future brighter than any fantasy turned nightmare you have ever dreamt.
All His promises for you and for me are yes and amen and true to the very core, the core set steady long before this world first spun on its axis.
But like the men who followed that bright and shiny star as they sought the new born King long ago, we must also seek Him.
And we must seek Him for no other earthly reason than Him!
We must ask and search and knock. And persist in asking and searching and knocking until we tear open the wrapping and hold in our hands the most precious gift one could ever hope or dare to possess.
And the door will open to us as our hearts cry out, please let us in for there is no place else to turn on this dark winter’s night.
With His fierce and great love, He will gently bid us come.
And our new year will begin that very moment…
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