One more round

It's finally come around, this circuit I've been running since I've lived in Perth. It's such a short track. I burn fast- a little exposure to sunshine and I start to melt, to turn to a formless glue that isn't very useful. I go home to the ice-cream man and He makes me feel better. Human life can be so disconsolate and yet so impressively purposeful. The difference of one ingredient makes the mixture potent or poison.

I realised that in my melancholic narcissism, I've found nothing but a pile of crumpled feelings. The incriminating photo I have right now on my MSN is the only one that makes me feel strangely happy because I realise that it captured something true. I can't put my finger on it, though. But I should like to call it acceptance.

Abba, you told me to receive with one hand and to give with the other, both being as important as the other. And yet the laws of physics do not abide. I find you've given me to be used as a vessel, but I can't seem to hold even that. Father, it looks so simple, yet... That brokenness, cracked and leaking- that iniquity crying out. Is that how you flow out of me? How Mr. Living Water supplies? Through the cracks in my life and not through the impenetrable me? I know what you mean, but sometimes I feel like it might do some good to pull a Noah on me. What am I saying? You ARE, and I know it's hurting me. But I want you to know that I trust you, knife raised, ram poised, the way Abraham did.

I need to stop giving my time to nameless, shapeless things that don't do me any good. And yet, being so 'productive' is draining me. no more me. Just you will do.

Daddie saw the picture. Then mummie saw the picture. So I took it off. meep.

[I'm yours to love, for i in myself have no love to give.]