Musings of Late:

I would say that the world is falling apart, but that observation is inaccurate. Truth be told the worlds was never together. The change, I believe, is in my perspective.

My eyes are opening. I see the perversion of nature. I see the obsession of lust. The violence. The hurt. I see the poor in spirit. Anger. Hate. I see the grip of death. I taste hopelessness.

I see around me people spiraling into oblivion. Where is life? That trueness of life. Or is there truth in our suffering? Am I looking for perfection, purity, holiness and striving in vain to attain the loft . . . when our lives are a journey? We often take the road less traveled: should that road be paved? Or is that road covered with knee high grass, thorns and thistles. We learn from our mistakes, from failures, but then why should I hope for a sinless existence. Why should I beg and plead for purity . . . if purity I can't obtain?

And what of me? If I become something is that so great? What of my brother? Shall I become so focused on me, my purity, my happiness, that he becomes nothing? It would seem that for me to achieve it would be to loose sight of self and turn my eyes to those around me. Forsaking what I want and need to help the strangers mulling about. Let them grow. Let them be.

In return would I recieve. Should I attain my wildest dreams if I draw my brother to his? Or in my selfish quest destroy us both and give Christ to shame.

Yet If I could sacrifice myself for humanities sake . . . I would gladly place myself upon the altar.

Clay