The Sickness
The following was a seemingly pointless blur of typing on a word document that was originally supposed to be a term paper about the effect of the Apostle Paul's ministry on the "modern" church. This has nothing to do with the Apostle Paul but the modern church part probably fits. It hasn't been proof read and could quite possible be heresy but we will never know unless we read it now will we?
It starts as an annoyance… overlooked and ideally forgotten in a matter of moments, a slight discomfort that comes and goes and is no more. But then it grows. It grows with every despondent article and nonchalant news piece that depicts that cesspool of broken, shattered and meaningless lives. Souls pouring over the edge of an overflowing melting pot of apathy and complacent Bible hoarders; this is the world that disgusts me. Everyday this sickness grows stronger and more rampant in my gut and my constant need to distinguish it with it’ll be all right happy songs and wishy washy Bible verse embroidered motivational calendars only makes the sickness grow stronger. It is people like me that make me lye in sleepless aggression wondering if we all shouldn’t just burn in our own fiery chasm of unwillingness. Quite frankly I tired. I am tired of hearing that 3 billion people live in some form of poverty, I am tired of hearing that 57 million people exist in extreme, life-threatening, poverty. I am sure as hell tired of hearing that 30,000 children will die this very day of starvation, malnourishment and incurable sickness… like a common flu. I am tired of having to lower my eyes to a homeless man on the street not because I pity him, but because I know by passing him I am reassuring the fact that in my mind I think I am better than him, yet deep down I know the fiery pits of hell rejoice at my decision. I am tired of dancing on the cracks of this broken world. I am tired of just existing, of not changing and of furthering the pain. The sickness has brought me to the point that I vomit complacent greed and apathetic laziness and fall lifelessly to the feet of my Savior begging Him for an unwarranted chance to make something different, pleading for an undeserved chance to effect on change that in turn will spark another to where one day the name of Jesus Christ splits from the inner crust of our souls and heals, feeds, clothes and loves like it was supposed to from the moment His blood gained our lives…. I want to be Him, so badly I feel sick.
So what will a generation like ours do?
It starts as an annoyance… overlooked and ideally forgotten in a matter of moments, a slight discomfort that comes and goes and is no more. But then it grows. It grows with every despondent article and nonchalant news piece that depicts that cesspool of broken, shattered and meaningless lives. Souls pouring over the edge of an overflowing melting pot of apathy and complacent Bible hoarders; this is the world that disgusts me. Everyday this sickness grows stronger and more rampant in my gut and my constant need to distinguish it with it’ll be all right happy songs and wishy washy Bible verse embroidered motivational calendars only makes the sickness grow stronger. It is people like me that make me lye in sleepless aggression wondering if we all shouldn’t just burn in our own fiery chasm of unwillingness. Quite frankly I tired. I am tired of hearing that 3 billion people live in some form of poverty, I am tired of hearing that 57 million people exist in extreme, life-threatening, poverty. I am sure as hell tired of hearing that 30,000 children will die this very day of starvation, malnourishment and incurable sickness… like a common flu. I am tired of having to lower my eyes to a homeless man on the street not because I pity him, but because I know by passing him I am reassuring the fact that in my mind I think I am better than him, yet deep down I know the fiery pits of hell rejoice at my decision. I am tired of dancing on the cracks of this broken world. I am tired of just existing, of not changing and of furthering the pain. The sickness has brought me to the point that I vomit complacent greed and apathetic laziness and fall lifelessly to the feet of my Savior begging Him for an unwarranted chance to make something different, pleading for an undeserved chance to effect on change that in turn will spark another to where one day the name of Jesus Christ splits from the inner crust of our souls and heals, feeds, clothes and loves like it was supposed to from the moment His blood gained our lives…. I want to be Him, so badly I feel sick.
So what will a generation like ours do?
posted by TWHALEN at 9:44 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home