Wayward Wanderer
Why does my soul not conform to the social standards that society and family set before me? As if I was written as a chapter of a different book and thrown amongst the scoffers. Or am I just a remnant of a time now lost, nestled in this body, in a forlorn attempt to find sanctuary? All the whilst, having doctored more unrest.
Will none attest to my goodness? Is value no longer placed upon honesty, purity, selflessness? Or to survive do we have to lay amongst the savages, grapple and take mercilessly until we end up on top? As if success were singular, purpose myopic. Can we not welcome the success of another without being overcome with jealous rage, that sours friendships like forbidden fruit?
Is love now bought, wagered, ransomed, finite, and unconditional love labelled 'love sick'? How do we allow our own country's earth to decay to seek pleasures further afield and not sow the seeds of our own home? False idols captivate our screens, media, conversation when the greatest in this world are those that become the least, that do things without desire for merit, worth or absolution. How do we find comfort in a world where old souls, who value lost morals are deemed outcasts?
God's word is clear, albeit at times difficult.
We must choose to walk the road less travelled. We may appear the wayward wanderer, but our destination is promised, even to the least worthy. So may we as God's people lean on his grace and follow the path of goodness and truth that shall outlast the tests of time.
03.13.22
Copyright © Charlotte Watkins | Year Posted 2022
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