"A Personal Pilgrim's Progress"

Oh the consequence of choice, the taste of regret, the deafening laugh of the aggressor, the heat of the ultraviolent taunt of an adversary, the chains forged by the dreams of another, the mind devining the fate of my future, the scream of the soul, the damning dying gargles of nonachievers, the advice of the accuser.

Oh the body that succumbs to fatigue that comes from the mind, the heart broken like an engine over driven and ill maintained, the once beautiful feet that now carry nothing, the furrowed brow of a man with more questions than answers, the wince of the expectation of discomfort, a free spirit free no longer,

Is creating a state of discomfort the only way to avoid it? On this road am I only to drag my face along the ground? I wait to feel a hand beneath my chin Almighty Lifter of my head? Can my vision be restored? Is it possible? That God can is of no discussion. That He will, no discussion can answer. Who can know His mind? Is He good? Have we any other choice but to believe it is so?

"That's just life. This is the way it is."

No, I can't accept that. That's not my life. I will never accept that life is pointless drudgery moving from one day to the next. I will never allow myself to become that. Life is to be lived! It's to be abundant. There is a way of escape and a way of finding once and for all, the life I am called to, and to find once and for all, that He is good. The living is to be chosen and if I choose to adopt the hopeless banal monotony of those around me, it will be to my shame. If I, however, choose to join those who have fought adversity to create the handholds by which I now pull myself up the face of this wall, I will find triumph. A reason to lift my voice and shout toward the future that it may be warned that I shall there be victorious, and my family with me.