The last couple of weeks have been blurry. Each morning my feet rest on an invisible staircase which has become my life. I gamble with my thoughts dedicate my fingers to find hobbies, tasks, and payments to keep the title of diligent.
When the window smudges, and the future is not clear, and the pebble blends with grass, where will my feet land? Will my heels find the lava of guilt? Will my toes bleed along the glass of ignorance or brashness? Fear snakes courage, statistics bullies hope, and doubt rains on my brain parade.
What will I do?
When my view fogs, I, just like the beggar must come to Christ again and again, and clear my eyes, so that I may see. The first time I see men as trees walking, then again, clearer and again and again clearer still. How much more have i missed with my eyes and with my ears lord. Let me slow down and know thee lord. What am I missing?
