A Sunday looking like any other only with motions that couldn’t be expressed…
‘Seeds that fell among the thorns; These seeds grow, but with them will the thorns. Unable to distinguish between the two as they approach maturity, the thorns chock up the plant and it dies.’
‘This is the crowded heart. They will hear the word, have fellowship with the people of God and they begin to grow and mature but the cares of the world choke the word and it never bears fruit.’
She just sat there, listening to him describe her. Focus…. girl focus….she would tell herself most of the time during sermons but today…she was alert, aware of herself and her surrounding.
For a moment she nearly drifted away but the constant repetition of the words ‘ Hardened, Vain Excitement, Crowded and Prepared’ by the pastor kept her alert as scenes from her seemingly perfect yet very contemptuous life played in her head.
She was glad he never showed up today, but really she couldn’t help but feel sad for him and still hate herself for thinking about him. She new for the few days they were together he engraved himself on her. A piece of art that she still struggles to erase, burn discard, forget which ever that would work would be fine.
Fear is her greatest enemy. After a few weeks she’d be back to her busy. Exciting, interesting adventures await but so did the nights of sad and implied loneliness. Implied because solitude never bothered her until…
Whispering a prayer to God, will little confidence in herself, she hoped He would sustain her. Keep her in check, constantly give her the desire to learn more about him. She prayed for more opportunities to be in contact with her salvation and be in fellowship with other believers.
She is still afraid because alone it’s harder to control her impulses even worse with them together.