Candid Honesty: A Lament.

This is not a response to someone. It’s a reaction to my heart.

This past couple of weeks I have come to learn many new things of myself. That I am broken is at the top of the list. That I am not quite the Kingdom fighter that I see myself to be, finds itself in second place. And that I hurt people continuously throughout my life is in close contention with the top two.

Last mentioned will be the only one of the top three that I wish I could change. I have come to the conclusion that I will never be complete. Also that I will never do enough to fully proclaim that I am a fighter for justice and peace in the Kingdom of God.

But I can stop hurting people. I want to though.

This I think is something that nobody ever intends to do on purpose (hopefully). But the reality is that we as humans fail. We are bendable. We are capable of inflicting an enormous amount of pain without ever lifting up a physical weapon. Our deeds, or the lack thereof, cut through the masks people put on every morning and penetrates the utmost core of the being. Spilling blood in litres around us like a bull has ripped out our heart with its rough rugged untamed horns. I rip out others’ deepest being through my sharp edged words. My lame deeds and my artificial promises I make to other drill holes in their souls.

Why are you so downcast O my soul? Why have I forsaken you again?

I lay awake into the darkness of the obscure nights wondering if my decisions I made during the thronging of the day was the correct ones. I wish to take back some words or wish I could utter different ones. I hear the shouting of the demons I carry and can’t hear God whisper hope and peace into my Nevesh (soul). It makes me want to escape this planet and seek a place where we need not face our demons. Every morning when I pick up my toothbrush my nerve system in my fingertips remind me with discomfort that my nails have been bitten off once again. I awaken feelings that I cannot comprehend. I do not know what I do with these words that create feelings inside people. I do not understand the responsibility that I have with this tongue of mine. With these words I create worlds but then again also break them down.

So why do I do it? Why do I keep this tradition of hurting people? Why can’t I shake it off? Why do I keep on keeping on with what I know hurts others?

This I do not know.

All I know is that I do not know. I am trying to find myself. I am trying to be true to myself. I am trying to be real. I am trying to be honest. Yet I have hurt people. I am broken. I am not sorry for myself. I am responding to the aching in my heart.

This is not an apology. This is bleeding.