mid-morning madness

As it so happens, creativity in the form of written thought springs itself on me every once in a while. Typically this occurs between 0200 and 0530, unfortunately. Also unfortunate is that while the thoughts I write down at these times make perfect sense to me at these moments, I rarely save the writings long enough to go back when I'm fully awake to see whether I'm actually, genuinely creative, or if it's just my poor, tired brain attempting to give me a hint that it's time to shut off the lights and slip into bed.

So I'm going to try a little experiment here. Hope you don't mind. I am going to copy down, word for silly word, what I scribbled into a notebook not half an hour ago. If this post suddenly disappears in a week or two or so, it's only because I will have realized making a copy of my written thoughts wasn't such a bright idea... :)

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What a time of stiffling - stifling - stiff-people talk.
What a time of strife and intellectual starvation and stupor.
What a place to exist, to exasperate, to extinguish little lives.
And
what a season in which to be living, working, playing, learning here.

BUT WHY SO?

How can we have fallen to days of tedious, tiresome, toilsome trouble?
How can we sting with words, shoot classmates, stab others' hearts?
How can we determine probability of life-worth, profitability of an unborn person,
decide with life-ending power their chance at life
In this world where we live and work and play and learn?

I AM NO BETTER.

Living in such shame, sorrow, scarcity of sincerity.
Working for me, for my desires, in mediocrity, from my own motivations.
Play consisting of pointless pleasures resulting in pain
and absence of peace.
Learning because I can, studying because I must, applying to life when convenient.

I AM NO BETTER THAN THIS WORLD.

No better, except for one simply, complicatedly beautiful thing:

DEATH.

Through one death a gift was created, crafted; catapulted into my life in the form of a choice.
Through that death, life beyond existing - beyond extinguishing other lives - became a possibility.
Through this lovely death chaos, confusion, and calamity are crushed.
Through joining in this death, my living-death has lifted and lead to living-life.

AND SO,

I have died to that life;
Therefore when I live out the world's life - my old form of living - I am as a ghost of my real, living self.
Productivity perishes.
Ministry diminishes.
My soul suffers.

I have died to that life;
Therefore I may only truly live within the bounds of the Life-Giver's life.
Grace grows.
My testimony is triumphant.
Death again dies.