A contravening thought comes stomping into the careful green garden of my mind and sews itself in as deep as it can furrow, only to harvest at any new sign of life. As soon as the favorable sprout receives too much attention, the weed manifests only to grow taller; demanding to be seen first and foremost. The weed is then watered. The weed sucks the sunlight. The weed takes the best temperature. The richest soil. The weed takes. The weed receives. The sprout withers, understanding it takes longer to grow, but knowing it’s well worth it. Still, the weed receives the best. Over and over and over.
The Enemy calls out to me by my brokenness. My head turns around as if it were all that I am. The Living God reaches out to hold me. I slowly back away, certainly that’s not for me.
leahamyliving 