Truth be told, I return back to ideas and concepts and thoughts like a fool returns to his folly, like Wile E. Coyote returning to the Roadrunner. Wile E. Coyote did say it best though, "It is the curse of an addict to chase the thing that destroys you."
My heart would love to stop and rest, but my mind is always up for a good chase. Some thoughts carry little weight: clothing, technology, trends. Others carry more: blessings, opportunities, friends. Some carry more weight than I wish to admit: personal weaknesses, shame, death.
All too often, I find myself in a place I know too well. It's a winding escalator and it's moving down. I find myself thinking heavy and weighty thoughts, the heaviest and the weightiest, all while I'm descending on this winding escalator.
As it takes me down, I look outward. I see the stars and I see the planets and I'm in awe. I wonder how it all works, I wonder why Jupiter's Great Red Storm never stops, I wonder if it all weighs more than my thoughts. I can't help but feel that it doesn't.
I turn to go back up, but the weight of all my thoughts is too great. The first few steps are hard but I make it up them with my own strength. As I stop to rest, the escalator takes me down and down and down and my progress is lost. It's almost like I'll never be able to do it alone. It's almost like I wasn't made to carry this magnitude of weight on my own.
Though, truth be told, there is one thought that trumps all. There is one thought that is more than just a hyperactive imagination or an extremely fascinating concept or a good idea for a best-selling novel, there is one thought that's a reality. My reality.
It's true, it's the curse of the addict to chase that which destroys them, but I am not an addict to these trivial thoughts. I'm not addicted to thoughts that hardly weigh me down like technology or trends. Nor am I addicted to heavier thoughts like blessings or friends. And I'm definitely not addicted to thoughts like shame or death.
I'm addicted to grace.
And though it is true, this addiction to grace destroys me, it picks up the pieces and crafts them into something, something more breathtaking than any thought I've ever had, something new.
This thought and reality triggers an emotional response deeper than shame, death, or the universe for that matter.
I think it's because the genius behind this crazy idea of grace holds the universe in His hand, winding escalator and all.
No comments:
Post a Comment