Sighs. A stare in the blank wall. A reading of the book. An opening of the television. Daydream. Daydreams turning into sleep. Your body submits into lethargy. An effort to do something but is less productive. Food is less savory, somehow. Hearts anticipating. Minutes pass. Hours. Days. Counting numbers. Keeping score. It has not yet come, but you know it will. Just not now. ‘When’ is always a question.
God turns on His shower, and the world is washed away, slowly cleansed. Every secret we’ve swept under the thick blankets of the earth will come floating to the surface, a parade of sins for everyone to see. We gape and gasp as our garbage and our treasures intermix, slowly taken from us by the massive arms of the flood.
III. Empty Tombs
It is no secret that death is man’s biggest fear. In the shadows, it creeps up, baring its clawed hands, stealing life like a thief. The pain, the horror, in the human’s grief stricken face. But a thousand years ago, a God-turned-man conquered death after three days of silence. There was an empty tomb. There is a proof of Divine Love. And there is a proof that man is made to conquer his every fear, even death.
IV. Bad words
I used to turn red when I read something disparaging. Shit, fuck, damn. But words are like people; a mix of good and bad things you have to live with. Slowly, I moved from my indifference and introduced myself to these grammatical criminals. I learned that they are not to be blamed. They are just letters put together for a name. Their context is their character. They have no bodies. They have no hearts. There are no bad words.
Only bad intentions.
V. Lies, Probably
Someone will say they are living for you. Your name. Your glory. Your compassion. Your grace. But human bodies cannot contain two souls at once. It’s a lie. The lives we live are written under our own names, underlined with our own purposes. There’s no living for you. There’s only living with you. Or at best, living you.
And that is what I will do.