I don’t think people believe me when I tell them how impossible this can be sometimes.
I know you told me to pick up my cross and follow, but all of this weight is just becoming too much to take
But there’s no way to walk away from being a slave is there?
They tell me freedom ain’t free and so many have paid with the life I’m trying so hard to make last beyond all these tragic stories of people gone too soon
But who am I choose?
This ain’t my life.
A friend of mine came to Christ recently, I can still remember how she searched my soul with her infant eyes and told me she was mad that I didn’t tell her she was choosing to be a captive though she did admit it was better than the alternative
None of us are free.
There’s not a single person on Earth who’s exactly who they want to be
Think about it, there’s something out there you just can’t stop saying yes to.
Me? Everything beautiful speaks to me;
Landscapes beg me to take pictures of them, moments and quotes insist on becoming poems, and music swears it’ll lose its mind if I don’t. I’m fighting hard to see women as more than an artful collection of body parts and thoughts, but as hearts that hope and hurt, heavy burdens for weak arms like mine. My part-time jobs don’t pay enough for me to afford it though part of me still just wants to charge it anyway. In the same way mosquitoes are attracted to bug zappers, we’re chained.
In all my talk of being wise, it seems my eyes are bigger than my mind:
There’s only one Light that leads to life
And I’m trying to stay focused but seeing stars through the city lights is getting more and more hopeless
Most people don’t even believe me
They tell me streetlights, TVs, and computer screens are the only lights we need and I’m starting to believe them, there’s no point in seeking something more.
I’ve seen skyscrapers in every square inch of pride and lust goes leagues deep, envy is a highway with a speed limit of “I bet you can’t break me” and greed goes from 0 to 60 faster than Sonic the Hedgehog times the speed of light and I love to drive
If I got lost in all of this, I wouldn’t need those stars; if faith needed sight, I’d be several years past belief driving blinding speeds down that highway between skyscrapers, submerged in total darkness continually one second from death
But I’m still holding on to this anchor, my faith in my savior keeps me afloat.
So I still die to those passions every day, but sometimes it’s like I don’t quite come back to life.
I’ve never been strong enough to hold all this together but somehow it doesn’t fall apart
I’m afraid this fire burning inside me might consume me but it doesn’t, so I’m a burning bush could you please speak through me?
To this world where kids are all in a rush to grow up and yet boys rarely become men
Where we’ll crusade to save marriage from gays and ignore rising divorce rates
Where God is found either on pages of paper or in the weary eyes of your neighbor but never both
Where people die from the side-effects of trying to cope with life
And I know I’m kind of a screw up
But your words keep cutting through me
And I can’t always see the stars, but you swore on them to Abram and I’m proof it came true.
I’m so sure that you know me better than I do and you prove your love again and again;
Where else can I turn to?
You have the words of eternal life.
And people don’t really seem to believe me when I tell them how incredible this can be sometimes, but then again, they can’t even see the stars, of course I look bizarre.