Frivolous, Frolicking, Foolishness

Wickedness is obvious
and out in the open

Feeling of desolation

On the heels of a satanic concert that targeted a young audience, I am left bereft. I can't shake the feeling of desolation. I have been groaning in my spirit for days, unshed tears stored up in an untapped well, are buried somewhere within me. A little digging, and the well will burst forth; my fear is that I will never stop weeping, never be able to stem the flow

Watching people fall headlong into the abyss is excruciating. I long to have the simplicity of joy, and I so want to be a motivational speaker and writer. I would love to just write encouraging words that uplift the spirit but I simply cannot; to do so would be to deny what I see, what I hear, what I have seen, what I have heard

Suicide

In my nightmare moments I hear the cry of little children, or the silent weeping of souls that have not a voice. The desperate pleas for it to stop, begging for the hurt to go away. The old Mash song plays in my head, the lyrics lying about suicide being painless. Suicide it the epitome of pain, an expression of such severe desecration of the soul, as to render it lifeless. Suicide kills more than the body, it is leprous, and contagious 

How satisfied he must be

It is not beyond me, to envision Mr. Contrary, wickedly heckling, almost coughing up a phantom lung because his mirth makes it hard to stop laughing. He got people to kill themselves, to commit suicide without even recognizing it; and he got them to encourage and demand their children do the same. How satisfied he must be, to have twisted the minds of the many to the point of leaping into the precipice with barely an invitation. They wanted to save their lives, no matter the cost, and the price they are paying is suicidally high. 

Hapless hope

I do not underestimate God but likewise, I refuse to underestimate the devil. I don't have to go far to see how much damage has already been done: the evidence is finger tip taps away, or just outside my house walls... I see the walking dead that sustain themselves with food and drink, and a hapless hope of some carnal pleasure mixed in for good measure, to fill the hole that cannot be filled without God.  

Life and death situation

Systems built by man, are now being torn down by God. He is stripping away the frivolous, the frolicking, the foolishness. He is letting us know, that we are in a life and death situation: the past twenty months, has been catastrophic for many already, and reality is not only smacking us up against the face, it is delivering knock out punches, rending the hit irreparably injured. 

It is a gorgeous sunny November 10th, and I will walk with God out there, somewhere. He will be my comfort. He knows how wicked we are, how blackened and murderous our hearts. He knows I want to throttle and even kill, those that put their filthy hands on the innocent and vulnerable, and He also knows, that I don't have the strength required, that I am as weak as a kitten without claws. I am grateful vengeance is His, I am counting on this promise.

Forgive me

Forgive me dear reader, if you find me too melancholy; too sad for your hopeful sentimentality 

Forgive me dear reader, if I just can't muster the energy to make merry, in light of what is happening

Forgive me, for not being available for fun... that part of me needs resurrecting, but alas, now is not the time