Pursuit

At the gentle touch of God's word, the unveiling of His grace, I knew I was no longer the ugly, unloved Orual. I shed away her loathsome face, her painful losses, her unspoken sorrows.

I experienced the peace and stillness of the moment as time froze in His presence. With His gracious hands, He lifts the baggage off my shoulders and leave me with the lightness of my spirit. His beauty poured generously into my heart, overflowing from the vessel. The joyous songs of His love sing to me, the captivating view of His art work wooed me, silenced me, awed me.

I feel like I just heard a really beautiful love story, realising the author had written it for me.

My Lord, I feel beautiful as Psyche tonight.

Pensive Moments

"The heart knoweth his own bitterness; and a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy." -- Proverbs 14:10

So the good news came. The heart was relieved of its long-carried burdens. Some joy was expressed, a prayer was said and thanks given.

But the flight of words also brought along a tinge of sorrow, a heaviness that began to sink in. Sorrow started as a small teardrop, that slowly, quietly, madly spread like a crimson ink blot over a white bibulous paper, a wildfire in the rainforest. It uncontrollably expands its circumference across the territory, contaminating the purity of the land and robbing it of any joy and life that previously sprouted.

I tried to contain the fire, I tried to stop the ink. But the selfishness that I did not discard catalysed the catastrophe. Bad thoughts fuelled the imagination, and imagination ignited more bad thoughts.

I re-read Till We Have Faces and felt like Orual in her veil. The ending lifted my veil, and brought some light, but I remained unconsoled.

It has only been a short journey, a small fraction of my entire life, but it felt like forever. It still feels like forever before eternity.

In between work and sleep, in between morning and nightfall, in between now and then, I carry this cup of penitence in hope that age will one day take it away from my hands.

A Silence that Sinks

Words fail me.