I “love” it when I’m dry of creativity until I go to bed, and then it rushes into your brain and you don’t have a notebook. I “love” it even more when I’m depressed and then I go to bed and wrestle with the vivid imagination combined with awful feelings. The great thing, however, is that if I do find a notebook or sketchbook then I can sort through those thoughts, and it gets my mind back on the things that truly matter, and I can look back and see how God pulled me out of it, and my writing/drawings are much deeper and mean much more than they would have. I wrote one of these kinds of… writings, about a week ago, so here it is!
I stood over a gaping hole. A chill wind rose from it carrying a thousand whispers of…something. The wind, or breath, smelled sweet and tantalizing, but there was a stench that you couldn’t really smell, more just feel.
Slowly the voices became more clear as they rose, sounding like a lovely song and a death chant all in one, weaving a complex pattern of melodies.
We’ll make you great, we’ll make you strong,
a clanging symbol, a clashing gong.
All will hear, all will know.
Show them greatness, for great is the show.
All the while we will hold you,
grab you, bind you, chain you, pull you,
As you grow you’ll fall apart,
cold as stone, we’ll turn your heart,
But you’ll be great. You’ll be strong.
You’ll look down upon the throng.
You’ll feel so high, your head in the sky.
Come and take it, don’t be shy.
For you’ll be great. Yes, great, you’ll be.
A mighty warrior, a greater king.
And we will guide you to your death.
All that work for a final breath.
You won’t die, but you know you shall,
when we pull you screaming to the gates of Hell.
As the horrid chant progressed, chains like snakes slithered up the sides of the pit and engulfed my body in them, leaving nothing, but my eyes and ears exposed. But then a man who looked plain, ragged, and wild, was standing over me. The chanting stopped abruptly, as if held back or cut off. The Man looked down at me and said,
“I can set you free
but it’s not easy to follow me.
If you take their way,
you will be great,
but your soul a broken slate.
You may listen to their lies,
but you’ll regret it when your heart dies.
If you were the soil and I was the seed,
then their lies would be like weeds.
Poison to your thoughts and mind.
All that would be left is a hollow rind.
You could prevail and walk with me,
though you may shrivel up in the heat.
For My Way is hard, yet my burden light.
These principalities we fight,
you are weak and you will fail,
but when with Me you will prevail.
For you deserve that filthy pit.
No matter the strength, the looks, the wit,
you excepted them once, and now you will die.
unless I die for you.”
Then I asked, “Why?”
The Man looked at me directly in the eyes, seeming to read the rest of the statement straight off my heart. The creatures held their breath in the pit; waiting.
“Because I love you,” He said in a melodiously strong voice, reverberating through the sickly air, seeming to cleans it. There was silence, but then the pittlings screamed with excitement. The chains shattered from me, but thousands it seemed leapt from the pit engulfing the Man and dragging Him down into it’s putrid depths.
I stood horrified, just gaping at the horrible pit. I felt empty as the thought of the torturers interwoven with the pittling’s song. What difference did it make that this Man sacrificed Himself for me? Wouldn’t they just come back?
I knelt and let loose one sob that echoed through the air.
A light shone in front of me. I looked up and it said, “What is wrong? For you should rejoice, the pit has lost and the Son has won!” then the light faded away. Confused I crawled to the edge of the pit. Suddenly a light erupted from the pit as the frightened howls of the pitlings filled the air.
I thought that was the end of the Man, but a voice behind me said,
“You are free if you choose to be.
I have won, and they will lose in the final days.
They are crippled and if you accept what I have done for you and live in the Light,
you will be free and receive sight.
I turned and saw the Man, and in my gratefulness asked, “Who are you?”