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There are seasons in life where passion is lacking; when everything is meaningless and lacking in joy. The question returns again and again,
“Is this all there is?” I find my soul screaming in agony, “THERE HAS TO BE MORE TO LIFE THAN THIS!”
All is grey. Nothing offers joy. Movement is a chore and breathing a curse. The weight of every thought drags my heart along the pavement and home seems so very far away, out of my reach or mere consideration. |
But ever so slowly my soul begins to shed its skin again. It begins to awaken to itself and stir life amongst the ashes. I start to breathe new life and the Spirit again begins dancing within me.
Passion is rebirthed and starts to inspire life. Each cell ignites the next and a fire begins to crackle. A winter’s worth of clutter slowly falls away and I can hear whispered promises of new life, creation and motivation. Eyes once hazy with sorrow and weariness widen at beauty that fades into winter’s background. So much stirs within me that it threatens to erupt into convulsions of sound, movement and utter joy.
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| See this photo at deviantart.com |
Life is again new, exciting and inspiring and I can’t help but wonder what happened to extinguish such passion during darker seasons of my life. How can I feel such passion, such life only to deteriorate into such depths of lifelessness? I can feel so alive and close to myself only to become a stranger residing within a shell of whom I once was.
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| See this photo at deviantart.com |
In seasons of utter life I attempt to collect pieces of the passion to hold within my core so that in the deadened days of my soul’s deep winter I can warm myself in the glow of passion’s song, holding snippets of faded photographs of who I am, who I was made to be and how I am meant to live.
Inspire me, Papa. Lead me to Yourself and the wonders of all You created me to be. I am Yours.
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