Three Allegories
I just finished writing something in my journal, and I wanted to post it here. It's a piece of my testimonial; that is, a statement about where I am with God and my life right now.
"There are three images, or rather allegories, to describe my emotional state at this point.
"The first allegory is that of a crossroads. They are in the middle of one of those depressingly muddy moors you find in Scotland; the weather is dismal; it feels like the Middle Ages, when everything is dirty. I can go one way or the other, but not both. The image is only made cheerier by the morsel of information that they once buried suicides at crossroads.
"The second allegory is assuredly placed in the blood-soaked arena in Rome. I am a gladiator fighting for my life--and I'm losing. My enemy stands with his sword at my neck; I am on my back on the sand. I see him turn towards the emperor (the one who hates Christians) and ask if he should spare my life or not. What will it be? thumbs up or down?
"The third allegory is, I confess, not entirely my own. I live in an apartment with a rear window that looks out onto a courtyard and the backs of other buildings. I can see through everyone else's windows; I'm so close I could call out and they would hear me. But I don't. I just sit back and watch as they find happiness, or tears, as they do something, without joining in.
"In all of these allegories I am alone. I have no one beside me. I have no one to turn to and make sure they're with me. There is no one to share my life.
"Oh, I have visitors who drop by once a week or so, as acquaintances. But no one stays for long. And it seems as if the people who planted their flowers in the garden have other things to do these days, and are slowly but surely slipping out of my life.
"What to do when even God feels like a stranger."
Be seeing you,
Steven
"There are three images, or rather allegories, to describe my emotional state at this point.
"The first allegory is that of a crossroads. They are in the middle of one of those depressingly muddy moors you find in Scotland; the weather is dismal; it feels like the Middle Ages, when everything is dirty. I can go one way or the other, but not both. The image is only made cheerier by the morsel of information that they once buried suicides at crossroads.
"The second allegory is assuredly placed in the blood-soaked arena in Rome. I am a gladiator fighting for my life--and I'm losing. My enemy stands with his sword at my neck; I am on my back on the sand. I see him turn towards the emperor (the one who hates Christians) and ask if he should spare my life or not. What will it be? thumbs up or down?
"The third allegory is, I confess, not entirely my own. I live in an apartment with a rear window that looks out onto a courtyard and the backs of other buildings. I can see through everyone else's windows; I'm so close I could call out and they would hear me. But I don't. I just sit back and watch as they find happiness, or tears, as they do something, without joining in.
"In all of these allegories I am alone. I have no one beside me. I have no one to turn to and make sure they're with me. There is no one to share my life.
"Oh, I have visitors who drop by once a week or so, as acquaintances. But no one stays for long. And it seems as if the people who planted their flowers in the garden have other things to do these days, and are slowly but surely slipping out of my life.
"What to do when even God feels like a stranger."
Be seeing you,
Steven
posted by Steven | 6:25 PM
1 Comments:
At some point, you'll have to stop waiting on others..
Take the first step.
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