"Do you want proof, you ignoramus, that faith without works is useless?"

Listen, my beloved brothers. Did not God choose those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he promised to those who love him? But you dishonored the poor person. Are not the rich oppressing you? And do they not haul you off to court? 

James 2:5-6

Golden cord, silver tether, draws my soul toward Him, even as I hide my eyes in despair. Will I ever get there? Seized by His desire, name tattooed across my chest, everything I am is lost. No possessions, no thoughts, no choice, but the choice to submit or struggle. What good is struggle against all you ought to be? Inside out, life closer to the surface now.

But if He doesn’t want me? If He drops the line and I am left floating with nothing, lost to the world and to myself? And so I struggle. Keeping whatever footing I can manage on the edge of oblivion. A sad and harried mouse, scurrying to exhaustion for fear of the enormous hand offering to lift and keep me close. Restless to the end.

It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that I don’t know how to. How to undo things nearly forgotten. How to get back to where I never thought I’d ever be. How to be satisfied with the straight and narrow. 

Narrowly didn’t. Narrowly leapt into the ocean feet first, arms stiff, eyes searching the stars for a sign. 

Ah, but what good would it have done? That bitter cold Pacific would have washed me back to shore, shivering and exhausted, just as desperate as when I dove in. 

So I’d have dragged myself out, taken off my shoes and walked the thirty-odd blocks home, teeth chattering all the way. Thirty-odd blocks to really drive home what a ridiculous melodramatic fool I’d been. 

Lucky then I hadn’t done it. Lucky I’d been too good to even try it in the end. I always seemed to arrange my worst moments in a playpen of sorts, in which I could moan and flail until my little lungs gave way and I collapsed in defeat. Losing the battle against myself yet again. 

A formidable foe indeed. 

Saint Barbara, please intercede on the behalf of the people of Syria. Let’s all pray for peace in Syria and for an end to the suffering of her people.