The First Treasure

A long time ago in my mind, not so long ago in actual time, I attempted at hiding in blogs about the suprising blessings aroung me. These blessing were things that I was required to see to satisfy the needs of my own hiding in spirituality. My invisible requirement to search for unseen blessings induced a great pressure on my soul to hide the dismal scene of destruction laid before my eyes. The desolation of my circumstances hidden deep within myself desired nothing more than exposure. For years I have greatly exceeded at hiding the weighty shame on my squared shoulders.

Damaged. Unworthy. Broken. Lost. Dirty.

These words actively played daily in my mind, forming a deeply flawed sense of self. How can these words make up the idenity of someone who outwardly seemed to possess all markers of successful living? The Idenity of A Victim: a nasty web of hidden inner chaos covered by calculated actions. Self-control can reamin a useful tool for hidding self-mutilation. Yet unaviodable and unpredicitable actions pouring out from the soul, tosses the body into fits until the shell returns in a pool of tears and sweat. The shell wipes it off and pretends nothing is wrong, even though evil has just rattled the resolve of faux-self.

These words seem inadequate for the inner struggle of my life. The world has cast all of it's worst evils upon my heart. It's arisnal seems empty, yet over and over, these evils keep attempting a mortal blow.

Yet hope, the evil of hope, makes the sickness of my heart grow, causing the ember of purity spark an engulfing fire. The fire, a slight candle in the darkness of my soul, causes my view to change. Do I dare start believing in hope? Real hope. Initially extremely painful unexperienced hope of freedom overtakes each inner torture chamber of darkness, leaving only open bars and empty chains on walls. The light stings my blinded eyes. Focusing over time, I start to see the light or what I think is light. It has been so long since the warm rays graced my path. Watching apprehensively, I wait in the torture chamber with open bars and loosed chains watching the little light for months, making sure it can remain. Then finding the draw of hope overwhelming, I crawl out of my chamber and rest next to the light.  



Not sure where to go, I cherish my first treasure: the warming light of hope.










"Hope Deffered makes the Heart Sick"














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