Snaking through a spiritual wasteland of broken dreams and promises, and disillusionment with things as they are.
Don't think that I'm a fool
if I don't believe the way you do
I just can't reconcile
what you take for granted
with what bears itself out
in my heart-life;
in what I have seen.
This endless struggle is wearing me thin
The big picture is there on the horizon, over that next hill.
It's wide, like letterbox; one struggles to take it all in.
Its majesty and scope are practically incomprehensible unless we back up off of it and observe it from a distance.
Outside the realm of selfish ambition is a pleasant place where freedon dwells, but in my self-absorbtion I don't see it very well.
God help my unbelief.