A Wasted LIFE : PART 2
Her spirit toils every evening as the night creeps forward and
brings with it her greatest and most buried fear: WHAT IF I WASTE MY LIFE?
As the doors of the day close in an unwelcome conclusion, she
falls into habit again.
She reaches for her book and finds her seat in the silent dusk.
Time to take stock of another day.
But this time, it’s not her charcoal that collides with her
imaginary paper,
it’s her spirit, so full of wanting, that collides with her
Creator.
She messily, yet beautifully, slips out of her chair and falls
to her knees.
In a flood of delayed recognition she realizes that the problem
has not been the amount and number of her waste, but the object and place of
it.
Her deep wanting is not caused by wasted days but by an
empty altar.
She sees for the first time, and will now for all of time,
that every second must be spent, not on hoarding her days, but
on lavishing praise.
This is the most beautiful waste.
Every space once empty with wanting now floods with praise.
She is cut open in His sight and in His company, yet this time
she bleeds not of fear, but of sheer adoration.
Praise. Flattery. Magnification.
With ferocity she burns her book and watches the ashes ascend to
Heaven in a fiery offering.
On her knees, not in weakness, but stronger than ever, she makes
one final decision:
She will WASTE her life on
Him.And she will never want for anything else again.
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