Tuesday, 20 December 2011

He Came to Me

We knock on the door and enter in,
only to find that the rooms are empty there. No food on the table to sustain us,
no table at all. But we have entered nonetheless,
searching room     to room    for something
But the whole house is empty.
However this house is close, it is here and now,
we have no reason to leave, let's continue too look.
And look, and wander through this house.

 Until a voice calling out from the fields. 
 It is a voice we somehow 
know we can trust.
 We run to the window and peer outside. 
There is life growing in the fields,
there is light stretching across the horizon, 
it is good. 

But we have wondered so long in this
old, dark house that the way has been lost.
Frantically we go room to room,
looking for a way out.
How could we have been so blind to enter this place?
Who would be so foolish?
Certainly only a mistake someone
like me
could make.
Yet we and I are here, now searching for a way out.
Time and time again each door swings open to another dark room,
dust and emptiness.
The silence in the hallways seems to mock us for coming here.
Every corner echoes with regret...

In time, we begin to forget what the voice calling us sounded like.
We begin, to give up.
This place is empty, but at least its a place.
No room has ever satisfied but at least we explore on and on through the empty rooms.
Maybe we will stay. Others have lived like this, so shall we.
    Its time to rest. So much
walking, wandering, searching, does make one weary after some time. 
We crouch in a corner, making the solitude our bed. 
With knees tucked to our chest and arms around them we try to sleep. 
But alone in our beds we remember. 
We remember that this place is not enough.
We have no purpose here.
We look around at the plastered walls and the
empty floors. 
We imagine the room filled. Enamored artwork and elaborate woodwork.
Smells of good food and sounds of life resonate.
It seems so real.
We could do this. We could make ourselves believe this place to be more.
Say it is so and claim it for our own!
Work together for a better tomorrow, this we will do.
Up from our beds of solitude we endeavor to make something of our situation.
With all powers of imagination we build ourselves a kingdom here.
Close our eyes and count to ten, don't open them till someone says when.
In our minds we live in a finished mansion now, it seems good.
    But it is so far from good. For even in our mansion of imagination we must sleep.
And as we lie down to sleep, sometimes we forget to keep our eyes closed
and we see things again they way they really are. 
We see the emptiness that is true to each one of us living here.
Sometimes we weep in this.
Sometimes we just try to quickly close our eyes once again and forget the
nothing    we feel. 
We always try to hope, we don't always succeed. 
   On some days when we are walking through our mansion,
nibbling away at food for thought which never amounts to anything,
someone finds the window.
but scared of hope or scared of change no one really sees it.
They know it is there though,
even with closed eyes you still hear that voice.
The voice calling from the fields, from the something more.
I know I do not like that voice anymore.
It touches to deeply, pulls too hard.
I am happy here! Are we not all happy here?
I do not need your call!
Let me be, for I have my kingdom here in which I find my comfort.
So leave this room with the window.
Next room we enter into and the voice,
that churning inside tearing at something I know not what,
is quieter now.
           Next room...quieter still.
                          Next room...silence.
                                       Silence from that lying, ignorant....
                                                           just peace and silence.
                                             I hate it.
         .. but I will never tell you that.
I will not tell you how much I hurt in this silence.
I...we, many of us, have lived here long enough to make you think this is our home,
and why should that be changed?

   Go now to our beds, to sleep and meet another day,
yet going and dreading the chance of remembering what we want to forget. 
Perhaps sleep will come easily. 
   But this night is different, it is worse than I have known.
I cannot close my eyes. All around I see this place for what it is.
I just want to sleep and dream no more of something more!
I have tried to find a way out!
Those first days when I heard the voice I did everything I could!
Life...what do you want of me?
Truth..why do you haunt me?
If the way is here I do not know it!
 "The way is here."
  I know that voice.
"The way is here."
   Who are you?
 "The way."

 This voice I've heard, but it is so close now, like I've never heard it before.
Who it belongs to I cannot see, but they are near now.
Footsteps.        They are moving.
I follow the way.
     Out of this room,
                                                           through that door,
      this way
                                                                                          and that way
    he leads me. 

Before long it is to a place i have not known before;
A narrow
        I had
        not seen
                    The way leads me
                          this path....and as we walk I ponder...
...all these years here, was this path here all that time? 
   I cannot help but think that the voice calling me from outside was really calling me
from a void within myself.
And every door I shut going from room to room 
was a door in my own heart. 
My imaginary mansion seems so fickle now.
How could I have been so silly to walk those empty halls. 
Why did I even come here in the first place? 
I scold myself for my blindness,
clenching my fists, gritting my teeth, with tears in my eyes
regret swells inside me. I close my eyes in pain. 

 The voice startles my thoughts
 "Keep your eyes on me"
  I can't.
  "I am the truth, not those lies you see behind closed eyes." 
  I trust this truth, somehow i do. And I follow onward.
Down the narrow path.
I follow the way, believing the truth, in faith moving forward in the life here and to come.
Because He came to me.


  1. ya, I was journaling the other night and it all just came out.

  2. This is beautiful - and it meant a lot to me to read it. Thanks, Drew...