"Then into it He blew the breath of life, And man became a living soul. Amen. Amen." (The Creation by James Weldon Johnson)
I was a gift. Once shiny and brand spanking new, now dull and tossed aside. Ravaged by time and thoughtlessness. I was once a gift. Full of wonder and available to the curious, until familiarity bred contempt. I was once a gift. Hopes and dreams danced in my eyes. Now they are cloudy and the vision is blurred. So do I perish or do I persist? Am I going to be the victim or the victorious? The struggles with self feel like quicksand, and acceptance feels like defeat. Excellence is calling out but is so evasive in this heavy fog of expectation, guilt, disappointment. I can't even see where to step. There are no more tears to expel, no more sighs to leave my lungs. Lord, let the next breath I take be yours, so that my soul may live.
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