I Pray For Fire

The shadows dance. The shadows laugh. "Victory!" they cry.
The demon Despair runs a pale finger through my hair, whispering of failure.
His brother Regret clutches my ankles, muttering about my mistakes.
Cousins Fear and Depression giggle from the doorway, awaiting their turn.
Loathing, Self-righteousness, and Revenge fling their knives at my back.
"Burn!" they all scream. "Burn! Take your fire and burn yourself and everyone around you!"
My head is bowed as my strength fades.
My heart is heavy with the knowledge of my failure.
My soul is wounded from betrayal, mourning the loss of one whom I called friend.
"Worthless," hiss the shadows in my ear. "Your efforts of kindness are in vain."
Tears find my cheeks as I turn my soul to the Enemy of demons, the One who rules all destinies. I cry for comfort, for hope, for strength. I weep over the loss and my wrongs. I lift my hands in submission not to the demons in this place, but to the God who lives. And I pray for Fire.
The Fire that burns away all impure things.
I pray for Him to burn away all things wrong from me, to give me the pain that declares I am being made new. I pray for Fire.
The Fire that lights up the darkness so the shadows must flee.
I pray for Him to burn the shadows as He promised long ago, to keep them from hurting anyone else. Lord let me be their last taste of human suffering. I pray for Fire.
I raise my voice in song, in worship of He who loves me. I speak words of love to the One who led me to strive in the first place, knowing He will pick me back up again.
I may be down now, but I will rise once more. I may be wounded, but I will heal. Because I know He who sends me eagles' wings. Because I know the Healer who conquered Death, living again.
Begone, shadows. Remove your grip from we who live here and never return. Begone in the Name of Jesus the Risen King! Oppress us no more! Begone!
Lord, I lay me down to sleep, this house is Yours. It belongs to You. I belong to You. You love me and I worship You. I belong to You. Burn me away until only You remain.

My Old Friend

     Sometime last night, my old cat friend at my folks' place died at the age of thirteen. I grew up with that grey tabby. I knew him since he was a tiny, fuzzy kitten. Out of the half-dozen different pets I've had in my life, Tiger (yes, soooo original, but hey, my little brother was in kindergarten then and we had to agree on a name!) was the best pet I've ever had.
     He had good energy, loved to play, had a wonderfully therapeutic purr, knew when I needed company and when I wanted to be alone, fit perfectly on my lap when I sat on the couch, taught me about people more than a lot of people taught me about people, never talked back, listened to everything I said (though I doubt he understood any of it), preferred me over the rest of the family, tolerated the dog (she came later in my teen years), always came home, and kept me company when no other company would do. I spent super bowl Sunday (two days ago) at my parents' house and enjoyed Tiger's company, thinking it was probably the last time I was going to see him alive due to him loosing the ability and desire to eat the entire previous week (my mother tells me). He lay in the sunlight until it got dark and then climbed up into my lap, purring happily (apparently for the last time, he spent all of yesterday vomiting) and enjoyed my company once more.
     As I'm typing this, the house cat of the place I'm living in is falling asleep on my lap, as if she knows that I miss my old friend. (Or maybe she was just bored with the other residents. I don't know.) And I marvel over just how different each and every cat is from another. They are completely fascinating creatures, with unique voices and behaviors. And for me personally, my favorite animal. So much character radiates out from a cat. They are so alien in form and yet it is strangely beautiful. They are fun creatures to photograph and, as I said, something about a cat's purr is just so therapeutic. But back to my friend Tiger. Some people just never know what good things (or people) they have in their lives until it's too late. I'm thankful I got to appreciate my cat until the end. And now he's not sick and in pain anymore. Yes I miss him, but I will remember him fondly.

In loving memory of Tiger.
The best friend in an animal a girl could wish for.
Rest in peace.

The Power In Me

I read these words: 1 John 4:16 "And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them." What? I do not know this love. I do not understand.
Tired, yet alive.
The Fight, this life, is so much harder than I thought it would be. I trained, set my mind for persecution. Prepared to be cut down, laughed at, ridiculed. I was even ready to die. But my place in life is so much harder than that.
Weary, yet pushing on.
Faith, Hope, and Love was preached into my bloodstream. It is my way of life. When doubts overruled my faith it would be restored with a single glance at me from my God. When I lost hope and my days were filled with despair over mankind, the Son would shine through again. But Love, in all its complex simplicity and power, was so beyond me. But I was promised a mustard seed of Love that rapidly grew until it overwhelmed me and I drowned. And lived again. And I understood: Love is stronger than light energy - infiltrating deepest space and every crevice of my soul.
Empty, yet full.
I was picked up, set on my feet, and told I would learn of Love's power. Told that the eyes of my soul would be opened to colors unseen. Told that my ears would burn with the songs and screams unheard. Told that I would touch the immaterial. Told that my heart could not withstand the strain of experiencing the purity of God's wrath at the same time of the purity of the forgiving fire. And I understood: Love is the force behind creation.
Poured out, still flowing.
I was pulled out of the dirt. Every single flaw, mistake, problem, and sin I ever did and do lit up like a neon sign. I was told that I had betrayed the Lover of Souls. And condemned. Then Someone took my place on death row. I was set free. And I understood: Love is sacrifice.
Used up, still strong.
I was shown my gifts and talents. Shown the silver lines in the dark tapestry of my life and told to look for it in everyone else. I was shown that beauty resides inside each and every soul, just waiting to be awoken by Love. And I understood: Love is guiding.
Worn out, still going.
I was given passion for my fellow human beings. I was given compassion and care in abundance. And in my desire to give I sought, and still seek, to put aside every moment to selfishness in my life. Still I stumble, but I turn to the Selfless One who died for me and humble myself and ask for forgiveness and to be made stronger still. And I understood: Love sustains.
Stretched out to the limit, still have slack to give.
And in reply I was given a new heart that beats for all people, singing for the voiceless and dancing for those who cannot walk. But I turn and see the shadows. I look around and see the despair and hatred in the eyes of those around me. My heart burns for them. I weep over their wandering blindly, refusing to see what is within their reach, just aching to change them into something so amazing. I declare that I will be like a stone on the pavement that cries out when the people fall silent in the glory of God. 
Real love feels like pain but still giving. 
Real love feels like blood pouring down your hands from inflicted wounds and you still forgive. 
Real love feels like aching for someone to become to much more than they are, knowing the potential they are missing out on. 
Real love is letting who you love take every bit of your soul, who you are, just to prove how much you love.
Real love is spending every moment begging for others to receive the same never-ending joy and power.
And I understood: Love is the greatest power of God. That is what the verse means.