I remember voices in my body takin’ me to unseen realms of hell,
I remember voices in my ears forcing me into cold showers to scream Jesus,
And I could not taste the touch of the Divine.
But in the darkness as I hit my stomach to keep from crawling out of my very skin.
In the blackened 10 hours of torment.
There was a knowledge that his Grace was greater than my perspective.
There was a knowledge that his Grace was greater than my will.
There was a knowledge that his Grace was greater than the red in my eyes.
And I screamed out to Jesus, “JESUS!! JESUS!!”
And nothing happened.
But when I slept.
When I was finally able to find some semblance of rest.
As I look back, I know it was the divine touch.
Sometimes we simply do not have the faith to endure.
But in those moments it is not our spirits that sing.
But rather a Grace that transcends all states of consciousness.
That reaches into our very selves and helps us find a way to continue.