Beauty and the Beast.

death-and-the-woodcutter-yes

I want to scream, I want to dream, yet the extreme of this life has taken me further down a path I did not view or seem as one in which I would ever, if even I tried, to be ready for. Why? I don’t know. I know nothing, yet I know lots. It is odd. How can I sit and plan, yet really, what is it I am planning for? I laugh. Yet I cry. I do both. Is this a normalcy? Perhaps. This is my new normal. One in which  I have to embrace. There is no running from it. I have to go through it. I thought before the wilderness was a beast, but this new endeavour is beast part two. If only the soundtrack to my life could be as beautiful as that of Beauty and the Beast, but in this moment, who is the beauty and whom is the beast? There is no difference, for I am both. Both beauty and beast, wrestling through the pages of this chapter I find myself aligned with, but not by choice. I did not choose this, nor would I ever have. This was brought on only by the realms of this broken earth and I alone stand alone in hopes alone for an understanding that only Christ alone will be able to express to me in a way that I alone will fully get. My crashing point? Perhaps. However, I continue to crawl through this thick mud like it is a clarity, and at this beautiful moment, I can not even kid myself.

Image Credit: Jean Francois Millet: Death and the Woodcutter