Patmos Isle

The life of a Pastor, one who has been beaten and left to die by his own kind.

Location: Texas, United States

I consider myself as one that has seen the dark side of humanity and has lived to speak of it.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

"Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable, which refuseth to be healed? wilt thou be altogether unto me as a liar, and as waters that fail?"

It is with great respect that I share the words of Jeremiah, I normally think of them, but never speak them, and NEVER let anyone know that I am thinking them. I speak to the darkness as I get into bed at night... "Now tomorrow your life will begin again, this time it will be good, this time, the thorn will not return."

I have yet to awaken to that tomorrow.

Every day, I find this thorn, pressing, pushing, and at one time, it would work it's evil for good, bringing me closer to the Christ. Now, it only comes to torment me, to make my mornings a sacrifice and my nights a sorrow that only can be described as dark.

I stand at my window in the night and I speak to the tree... How do you do it? After every winter, you return to your beauty, why have you not said... I will not respond to the winter and I will never again respond to the Spring.

And as if a tree can speak, I can hear it's voice speaking.... I just respond and then embrace the season.

I fear the embrace


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