Standing alone in a dark room, I can’t keep myself still.

Beads of sweat rolling down my face,

I’m panting for each breath

Because I’m laughing uncontrollably at the thrill of it all.

Excited.

Nervous.

It’s electrifying.

It’s exhilarating.

It’s terrifying.

The only sane part of my soul seems to be stripped from my body.

I sit amazed watching this hollowed, empty version of myself as the scene unfolds.

This can’t really be me…

And I can’t help but think, how did I get here?

I’m the image of terror.

I cling tightly to the now warm metal of the pistol that may as well be glued to my hand…

I find power in its weight.

How did I get here?

I watch myself swing my power wildly through the air.

I’m firing aimlessly at nothing at all.

I’m out of control.

… But this shallow version of myself seems amused.

How did I get here?

Power-hungry, I don’t realize I’m no longer in control.

A shot fired for MY truth that I now shoot at someone else…

How did I get here?

Stuck-up, I don’t realize I’m no longer in control.

A shot fired for the mask of perfection and judgment that now seems stuck to my face…

How did I get here?

Self-centered, I don’t realize I’m no longer in control.

A shot fired for the good deeds I do just for the applause…

How did I get here?

I’ve watched the image of pride spiral herself into this moment…

And this is how she got here:

She’s worked diligently “In Jesus’ Name” without His opinion, trusting her own.

She’s found every speck in every eye but forgot about the log in her own.

She’s done this whole life thing proudly on her own.

But maybe the biggest offense:

Not realizing she doesn’t know Him at all…

But thank God.

Before one more shot can be fired,

There’s a Hand much stronger than mine to resist me.

Restrained.

Confined.

… Safe.

All I ever really wanted was to hand my power over to the One with the wisdom to show me how to use it.

I rise at midnight to thank you for your righteous judgments.

Psalm 119:62

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