something struck me earlier this evening.

2005 is almost over with.

i know, its october on the calendar. that should be a clue that “hey, the year is drawing to a close”. what hit me harder, was the fact that life still feels like its on hold.

like im circling the airport, the sunset behind me, but there isnt an open runway. my landing gear isnt dropping. “something” is keeping me from the next thing.

part of me is pushing for the next thing. part of me is hungry. unsatisfied. unwilling to accept the “now” in favor of lusting after the “next”. its a void in my life. and i know its there.

but another part of me is quietly wondering if this is the “next”. if i should stop living in the hope of a next and start living in the real of the now.

maybe its because life isnt easy. and we humans dont like to intentionally put ourselves where it hurts. but it does. losing a best friend hurts. watching your sister break down into tears at the mere thought of eating a meal hurts. being totally helpless about both of those situations… it hurts.

and the part of me that is whispering quietly about the benefit of the “now”. is quickly being drowned out by the part of me that is screaming. screaming in frustration. screaming in anger. screaming in hate. screaming in pain. screaming in fear. screaming alone.

there is supposed to be a beauty in surrendering. in learning to let go. in letting loose. there is suposed to be a beauty in giving up and giving it over to our Creator.

im beginning to believe that this beauty has more in common with an ancient shipwreck nestled in the coral at the bottom of the sea, than the beauty youd see in your local mall. its exotic. its unusual. its a beauty brought of violence. a beauty birthed with tears. a beauty that doesnt come from pampering or prestiege, but one born from loss, heartache, pain.

the difference between this beauty and the one our world worships, the one you see plastered in magazines, on tv, billboards and desired by women everywhere, the difference between true beauty and this plastic beauty is that true beauty is earned… and it cannot die.

it doesnt need to be touched up. it cannot be reapplied. it doesnt fade, warp, change or lose its luster.

true beauty is born from a brokeness within. true beauty exudes a light that no darkness, no matter how powerful, can extinguish. true beauty is both terrifying and wonderful. true beauty is a process. its a journey. and its one that requires the willingness, each and every day to step up and answer questions that you dont want to be asked. it demands all you have and when you think you’ve given all you can, it shows you more that must be given.

true beauty is horribly beautiful.

and its what i live for. or rather, what i want to live for.

so if this is “now”. if it means i need to stop panting for the “next”. then so be it. im already to the conlusion that its beyond my own power to accomplish either goal. this, more or less, is just my confession that i cannot do it. i cannot create in myself, by myself the beauty i so hunger to see. the beauty i need.

and therein lies the key.

i need.

and i cannot fulfill the need.

are we left here on our own? can you feel when your last breath is gone? night is weighing heavy now. be quite and and wait for a voice that will say… 

come awake. from sleep, arise. you were dead, become alive. wake up wake up. open your eyes. climb from your grave into the light.

bring us back to life