| Of the journey, ever onward |

Just a poetic and rather random thought pattern.

You are on a journey, nomadic, sporadic, ever wandering through this maze of life.

You are a pilgrim called to be potent and bright - salt and light - standing opposed to apathy and plight.

As a sojourner, you keep your eyes to the city of God, your feet ever moving through the city of Man, and your hands free to serve and to save.

As a child of light, you empty yourself, strip away conceit and pride; you step aside, to show light, pure light.

And yet you linger long on certain treasures, worldly pleasures, weighing your wealth on earthly measures.

You begin to store up for yourself gold and silver - heavy as they may be - and you use your hands instead to polish and to shine these, your precious.

Your pace slows, stalls, stops, and eventually you are too tired to carry on.

You settle down, set up fences and walls, and begin to convince yourself that keeping the world out is your call.

Instead of venturing into the public and profane streets, you house up holy thoughts behind high walls and strong towers.

Instead of reaching out with empty hands and brilliant radiant light, you block out darkness and hold your doors firmly.

Instead of stepping forth to change the world one unredeemed moment at a time, you pray that God's will be done.

But what is His will, other than that you would be a liberator, an overcomer, a sojourner ever reaching and ever shining for His glory?

Forget not the journey, forget not the purpose you were called to.

Lift up your heads, oh you gates, be lifted up you Ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.

Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord is upon you.