|Octopus made from rescued trash from the ocean, |
Sea Life Center, Seward, Alaska
I have come to realize that there will always be monsters.
The pain and surreal nature of the unexpected cancer diagnosis,
The incomplete healing from a surgical solution,
The seemingly perfect call that ends with spears in the most tender places,
The omnipresence of the dis-ease of addiction,
The posturing and threats of those in power, with little to no thought of those who are watching, waiting, and worried about their decisions.
Until the physical return of Christ,
Until the zenith of sanctification,
Until the completion of the fullness of resurrection…
There will be monsters.
They have not earned a share of my heart space.
They get no more air than what it takes to utter that I turn them over to God.
They are not granted permission to live in the spaces where joy dwells and hope presides.
There may be monsters, but I will not sing their song.
And they do not get to plant their flags in my heart.
Original post at revgalblogpals.org as Friday Prayer on 1/19/18.