On bullets, trains and sailboats

I tried to take a peek into the lives of some of my old acquaintances and friends and have ascertained that for such a short span of time, less than a decade to be exact, the distance between me and them seemed like ages already. I'm twenty-one which means I've met them at the point where time seems to speed like a restless highway, the hormones of puberty won't rest at all. I can't help but wonder how, since '05, the year I first entered college, and I died about that time...and I until now I have not stopped dying ever since.

I'm still dying, like how a bullet that was supposed to pass through the skull in nanoseconds was stretched into years and it's now 2009 ans still the bullet's not done with me. What the hell is going on? I don't really know. All I know is that God is control and somehow, somewhere beyond the horizon, lay the fulfillment of a promise He told me a long, long time ago.

Five years ain't supposed to be a very long time, but it is for me. Whenever I walk through the mall, or through the alleys of my town, or even mingle at church, I see myself standing in the edge by the tracks of a train station with everyone else inside that train passing by me. The world and everyone in it was headed off somewhere and somehow something inside of me tells me not to go in that direction.

You see, I didn't want a train. I'd prefer an airplane or a helicopter. Or better yet, I prefer a train of my own. I don't like the idea of riding other people's trains. I'd like them to ride in mine. And if there is a train I'd like to catch that would be the Lord's but God wasn't fond of trains. You see, God's idea of divine guidance is not that of a train guided by train tracks so construed--His can be likened to the wind of a sailboat, just don't go against Him and with so much freedom He can bring us to so many places we haven't heard of before, and we have a contribution to that direction, so very different from that of a train.

God didn't make robots. He'd risk having to have sin enter His world than to have mindless idiots following Him around so pathetically.

Nicholas Herman has had a glimpse of that sailboat reality when he lived out a lifestyle of, in his words, the practice of the presence of God. One cannot move without yielding the sails to the winds, but once the sails catch the breeze, adventure will not be far behind.

Maybe the reason why I'm such a standstill is not that the winds aren't blowing, but that I have endured too many storms at open sea to let loose my sails once more.

I have to. I have to loosen up these sails. I cannot stay in living limbo forever. God is waiting for my decision.

Here I go, Lord.