The Unfailing Persistence of the Light

In the darkness,

When the noise ceases,

When my mouth is dry,

And I am once again alone,

There are two voices that remain.

One voice tells me things I believe about myself,

And the other does not.

One voice sounds like my own,

And calls me the name I call myself,

And the other does not.

One voice will be heard consistently no matter what I do,

And the other voice is only heard consistently when I try to hear it.

The first voice exists as a hiss that encompasses my entire being.

It points out my flaws,

It exposes my fears and shoves them right back down my throat.

It tells me:

That I’m a burden,

That I’m sinful,

That I’m a coward,

That I’m a slob,

That I’m lazy,

That I am not worth the breath in my lungs,

Or the roof over my head,

Or the kind people in my life,

That nobody cares,

That nobody should.

That voice is the darkness,

That keeps me humble,

That keeps me melancholy,

That shoves me down and swallows me whole,

Until I cannot see,

Until I cannot breathe,

Until i cannot hear anything but it.

But the other voice does not exist within me,

It comes from somewhere else.

He is loudest when I’m trying to hear Him,

When someone else reminds me to listen for Him,

When I feel a quiet nudge from behind.

He tells me that I’m not a burden,

He tells me that where sin was, forgiveness now stands,

He tells me that He will be my courage,

He tells me that He will keep me clean,

He tells me that He will fill me with direction and energy and motivation.

And while I am not worthy,

He tells me that He loves me without measure,

And that He has sent me so many more that love me too.

He has sent me strong arms to hold me,

Shoulders to lean on,

Musicians to play with,

Walls to bounce ideas off of,

Midnight chatters,

Backstage encouragers,

Fellow followers,

Fellow sinners.

That voice is The Light,

The Way,

The Truth.

That provides the only path that I can follow if I am not to die a permanent death,

The only viable option.

That keeps me joyful, hopeful, helpful,

That swaddles me like a warm blanket,

In my Father’s arms,

Until I CAN see,

Until I CAN breathe the breath of eternity,

Until I CAN hear,

His word.

And while that darkness is visible to me more often than not,

That Light will cut through in the most powerful way when I cry out to Him.

While the evil hiss drowns out all logic, all reason, all hope,

His thunderous voice shatters through like a great earthquake when I cry out to Him.

When the cold threatens to freeze my very heart and soul every single night,

His warmth spreads like an eternal flame that thaws me to my core.

And the truth is,

Sometimes I only want to hear the dark vile evil that spews from my own mind,

I focus on the negative,

I press my hands to my ears when I hear anything counter to that pain,

I pretend to know what pure, unending torture and hate really means,

What it means to be unloved.

But He doesn't let me.

It may not always be what I WANT to hear,

When I want to feel sorry for myself,

When I’m trying to be miserable,

But He makes sure that I damn well listen to what I NEED to hear.

Through the voice of a friend,

Through the words of a song,

A theme of a story,

A weirdly connected metaphor from life itself,

The way a leaf falls down on my shoulder,

Or sometimes,

He simply projects his voice in my mind louder than anything else.

It is an illusion that the darkness is ever the only thing there,

Cause He is always there,

Whether I see Him or not.

In the darkness of my heart,

The Light,

Annoyingly,

Irrepressibly,

Indubitably,

Unfailingly,

Persists.