Living Is Simple… (or not)

When I was fifteen, I used to sing this line from one of my then-favorite songs over and over and over again. “Living is siiiimple….. ” It drove my friends crazy. And really, who could blame them? I’m no musician, trust me….

It didn’t take me long to find out that living is not simple at all.

In fact, the longer I live, the more complicated life becomes. Some days, I feel like I am living in a perpetual headlock, like my neck is clenched in choking steel, and no matter how I struggle and fight and push, it wont budge.  I am in a perpetual checkmate. All I can do is just lie there, panting.

And wait for the guillotine to drop.

Evil is everywhere. I am so tired. I have no strength left, and if I did, it would be of no use, because I’ve found out long ago that my own personal strength can’t do a thing against the forces of evil.

There is a flash–a blinding light! I see a grand hall, if the stale, earthy word “grand” can even begin to describe the spectacular, mind-boggling grandiosity of its design. A host of towering celestial beings fill the room. They stand at attention, their muscular faces glowing with wisdom and valour,  their broad shoulders tall, chests and arms tensed and ready for warfare. They wait. Wait in expectation, gazing intently at their Master’s face. The Master, the King of this realm, is not looking on His subjects. His face is turned to the earth below. He is watching. Waiting. Listening……

“Child, my angels can only do what they are told. How can I send them, if you never ask? All of heaven is at your disposal. Do you really think you can stand off the brutal attacks of the enemy all by yourself? You don’t have the strength. You don’t. Let go, and let me BE your strength! I am waiting. Trust! Ask! Trust, child…..”

The painting is fleeting, and before I’ve seen even a glimpse, it closes and fades away. I am left with an even more vivid picture of my own inadequacy. And I remember the last part of the song… “Living is dying, Your mercy is how I believe… I’m down on my knees… confessing my needs again.”

Trust is a choice.

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