There I was, standing at the reception desk at the doctor's office. I was locked up. Stumped. I couldn't answer her simple question.
What is it about indecisiveness that I hate so much?
It's not that it uses up time (though the older I get, the less patience I have). No, I think it's because of the complications it adds to life. There are two basic types of indecision that drive me crazy, and they both center around stuff that just doesn't matter that much. The two scenarios can be exemplified as follows:
It was never a question, for myself, whether I would one day
be what, and whom, I wanted to be.
The fact had always stood,
with opportunities in abundance.
But there that day the questions seemed to proliferate.
What next to do that I hadn't already tried?
—or that wasn't so similar as to quench
any hope of satisfaction in my quest.
And, "Quest for exactly what?" I could no longer answer.
Had I ever known? Or was I now just tired of the empty humor.
Life and Death:
Mutually exclusive, yet
You can't have life without death, for all must die.
You can't have death without life, for,
Death of whom but he who had lived?
Is life just the path to death?
—a means to an end;
—ceaseless striving that leads us to the peace of the grave?
Shall we not then welcome death as
the only solution to life's dilemmas?
Thus the mind may reason, but my spirit says, "No!"
For me to passively accede to death,
"What is truth?" said Pilate, as he turned his back on Jesus. Of course he meant it to be a sarcastic hypothetical question. I believe he had no idea of its prophetic implications.
I was enjoying life and all it has to offer; sort of.
Opportunities in abundance, good times indeed; mostly.
Looking to the future, eager to grow; usually.
Worried, though, about missing something important;
What was this thing that held me back?
Why could I not fully enjoy what my friends enjoyed?
What was this piece of seriousness that muted the humor?
What is this sobriety that looms over simple frivolity,
threatening, dominating, overpowering, overcoming?
Then Jesus glanced my way.
There is a common trait amongst Christians. They are dissatisfied. They are dissatisfied with what this world has to offer.
Everyone seeks satisfaction. This is a human trait. In fact, I would assert that this is primary among the things that differentiate man from the animals. Other differentiators have been proposed, such as
When I consider that my present pain
seems to be a culmination,
having risen gradually to its current din
I cannot help but wonder...
At how many points along the way
might help have come,
or had it even arrived already,
and I failed to avail myself of it.
For God's grace surely has gone before me.
I have experienced His love.
He has solved countless dilemmas on my behalf,
for which I have thanked Him, and enjoyed His sweet fellowship.
So why do I now ask Him the why's and wherefore's
of this stabbing feeling in my heart?
My political rant for today is...
Somebody fell asleep at the switch, and I fear it is US!!!
I think "ink"
Should be spelled "inc"
It would save ink.