Draft 1
By: Chase L. Currie
(This is from my
private journal)
(It is raw and
unedited)
“Dreams do come true,
if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will
sacrifice everything else for it.”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
I tried not to wake up this morning with the haze of
yesterday on me, but I’m not sure how well it worked. It still feels as of I’m
cloaked in the past, chained to the rusty metal of the emotions. They are still
lingering in the back of my skull – I can feel them back there. They are
creeping towards me like the shadows of the grave, bony hands in all.
You
know, I’m thirty-one at this moment, soon to be thirty-two in a couple of
months, little I can do about the march of time. I say all of this because
there is a good chance this person – who I am right now – is who I’ll be for
the rest of my life.
There
is a comfort in the thought –
There
is a ghostly horror in the thought as well.
I fear
– know – this longing I have for a better tomorrow will always be with me. I
could sell a million books, find a good college to teach at, and I’ll still
long for a better tomorrow. I’ll forever be trying –
chasing the stars –
of a better dream
…
I don’t
like it.
I
almost hear a whisper in the depth of this longing – a ring in the fog –
A voice
from the Lord. I can hear Him saying, “You have me now, there is no better
tomorrow.”
He is
right.
Tomorrow
never comes- it truly doesn’t, so it is forever a dream I’m chasing. The fairy
dust of the stars I so wish to have, I want to fly, but God has said, “That is
not the Law.”
We
only get to fly in our dreams.
Unfair?
I
think so.
But it
is the way of the world, but God is fair –
Tomorrow,
I’ll get to fly …
And
yet, the Lord knows what I know. If I get to fly. I’ll simply ask for more.
“Faster.”
“Higher.”
With
the Lord asking me,” Am I not enough? Do you truly need wings?”
But
Lord –
I
want tomorrow and then the day if it as well.
I’ll
always want the next dream because I don’t feel as if I’m enough. Tomorrow,
I’ll be the better me. Tomorrow –
I’ll be
happy and still –
No
longer will the cloak of this melancholy be the blanket of my days, tomorrow.
But the Lord doesn’t leave me to the horrors of my thoughts or the dreams of
tomorrow. He sits across from in an empty chair, smiling, drinking coffee, and
says,” I have tomorrow, what I want from you is the now. Talk to me, son, tell
me about the fairy dust and the bony skeleton hands.”
It is
the now –
Me
sitting here in a coffee shop –
Is all
I have, and it is good. I started to tell the Lord about the fairies dancing in
my dreams. I let the smooth jazz wash over me, and He sits back listening to
it. All the while, as I speak, I can see how much I have changed from the age
of thirty to thirty-one. I start to smile not because the longing flight has
faded –
No,
it will never fade –
But
because I like the man in this chair, who I am now is better than the man I was
two years ago. The battle scars of my soul are the medals of my victory. The graveyard
I’ve climbed out of –
Coming
home to You –
Has no
power over me anymore. And I’m better than before, the shadows still come
haunting my mind. The trolls still linger the back of my ideas begging me to
play with pills and bottles. They are still there but –
The
Lord sits with me. He smiled at me, taking off the cloak and the now – with Him
– is all I want. He whispered to me a purpose. He hands me a gift and I know
His tomorrow is on the way. It will become here, I’ll follow His path, but
right now, all I want to do is sit with the Lord and drinking my coffee.
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