sticky

i am not entirely broken anymore... or so i feel.
i'm vaguely put back together, and i'm waiting for the moment when i will finally obey the calling i feel on my life.
vaguely put back together, but the glue's still sticky and it slows me down in the days when i should be picking up speed.

but then again if i speed up too fast i might shatter all over again.

i'm going to Africa one way or another. it's a life of God's calling for me. a daily obedience is the only way to go.

Brother Andrew got to be a smuggler. and still is, i think. i wanna do what he did and does. i wanna stand motionless and fearless in the face of men and machines dominated by evil desires. i want them to be awakened to the reality that they don't run the show. i want to give hope to someone just as broken as me, to help glue them back together. another humpty-dumpty.

((i think i've heard it said that humpty dumpty was helped only by the King's MEN and the King's HORSES.... but what about the King, himself?))

maybe i can be the King's hands for someone behind bars, or maybe i'll be the one behind bars. maybe my execution's slated for sunrise, and my brother in the cell across from me... as we hold fast to a look between each others' eyes... maybe my brother gives me strength so my knees won't be feeble as i'm escorted to the blocks. maybe my brother and i share one last prayer, as the golden sun slips bitter-sweet through the slatted window over my head. maybe it's gonna be a relief from the gnawing hunger to breathe one last time that day. maybe in that last prayer, something in God's agenda comes along and boosts my brother out of his cell and he raises a church.

if all i ever do is make eye contact with my brother in the cell across from me and never see him (or anyone else) again, then i have faith that God will take care of the rest.

PAX DOMINI