My Living Tells You the Opposite

dear child,
sorry.

i grumble about exams and health,
complain over car troubles, laptop repairs,
opposing political views and mortgage rates.
oh, and of course, wedding planning can be…
‘such a hassle’!

you play in the backyard of war and hate,
knowing nothing more than the ruins,
where others gain from your suffering,
and where maybe you’ll live to see 20…
isn’t that a hassle?

deep down, i believe my ‘rights’ should always be met.
you never were cursed with such thinking…
…for no one even knows you exist.

i remember the smells, the sounds,
the fear and the heart pounding,
…but now, i’m safe.
i saw the desperation and the cry for help,
…but now, i’m blind with plenty.

yes,
i tightly hold onto this life of mine…
even though i speak the opposite.
yes,
willingly living in sacrifice isn’t fun…
but talking about it brings much praise.
oh, and yes,
simply put:
i care more for me than you.
i love me, i think i kinda love you.

i know you have nothing,
but maybe, just maybe, my lip service will help?
Ha!

living relentlessly is easy talk,
but living it out can be so hard to do.
the Spirit within me is all i need,
but He’s been deadened by my idols.
or at least, by my idol: me.

if i were honest, i’d say that
i’m passionate about my pleasure,
and
about my comfort,
and
about my safety.

beautiful children,
and also to all the men and women,
if i willingly forget you, i have surely failed you.
but worse, if you never hear the Good News,
able to accept or reject Him on your own,
i have failed living this life altogether.

may we both know
–or rather, i hope you’ve heard–
this is not home.
we’re not Home yet.

sorry, if my living tells you the opposite.

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