My Cold Prison
In my dark night of my soul, I have been locked in a prison. My prison is cold and dark, more like a dungeon. No more dancing in the field with my suitor. I have been locked away. Feelings of loneliness and emptiness are my only friends.
In my job, my ministry, I am supposed to share a story of hope, more specifically a story of sharing hope with the hopeless, who have become hopeful. But now, I feel hopeless. My soul has walked a way. My feelings of sharing hope are replaced with isolation. I'm alone, locked away in the cold prison of hopelessness, because my suitor has left.
The enemy prowls back and forth outside of my prison. I feel and smell its presence. Where is my savior? Where is my protector? How can he get so close? Can't I call out 'Jesus' and he should run? But's he's not running, he's pacing.
Are the walls of my prison locking me in, or locking the enemy out?
As I am getting to know the darkness, I think the walls were put there to protect me. In the absence of hearing my Savior's voice, I feel abandoned. But what if they are my protection?
My cold prison has four walls with a barred door where I can see shadows and hear voices. The air is cold and smells like a smoldering fire. Maybe the fire was there earlier in the day, but now it's night and the fire is out. There is only a crack of light that streams through the bars on the door of my cold prison.
My jailer comes to the barred door and I see her and she is familiar. She looks like someone I should know, someone I used to know, someone I am. She is me. She holds the keys to my door, but doesn't enter the key in the lock. She stands outside and waits.
I don't know her. She keeps me locked inside.
I try to call out to her, but my voice has been reduced to only a whisper. I try to make a sound, but nothing comes.
I used to sing. I used to dance with my suitor, but now my voice is gone. I don't want to sing love songs to someone who has left me. I don't want to sing his praises. He's not good anymore. He left. And I, I am alone in my cold prison in the dark night of my soul.
In my job, my ministry, I am supposed to share a story of hope, more specifically a story of sharing hope with the hopeless, who have become hopeful. But now, I feel hopeless. My soul has walked a way. My feelings of sharing hope are replaced with isolation. I'm alone, locked away in the cold prison of hopelessness, because my suitor has left.
The enemy prowls back and forth outside of my prison. I feel and smell its presence. Where is my savior? Where is my protector? How can he get so close? Can't I call out 'Jesus' and he should run? But's he's not running, he's pacing.
Are the walls of my prison locking me in, or locking the enemy out?
As I am getting to know the darkness, I think the walls were put there to protect me. In the absence of hearing my Savior's voice, I feel abandoned. But what if they are my protection?
My cold prison has four walls with a barred door where I can see shadows and hear voices. The air is cold and smells like a smoldering fire. Maybe the fire was there earlier in the day, but now it's night and the fire is out. There is only a crack of light that streams through the bars on the door of my cold prison.
My jailer comes to the barred door and I see her and she is familiar. She looks like someone I should know, someone I used to know, someone I am. She is me. She holds the keys to my door, but doesn't enter the key in the lock. She stands outside and waits.
I don't know her. She keeps me locked inside.
I try to call out to her, but my voice has been reduced to only a whisper. I try to make a sound, but nothing comes.
I used to sing. I used to dance with my suitor, but now my voice is gone. I don't want to sing love songs to someone who has left me. I don't want to sing his praises. He's not good anymore. He left. And I, I am alone in my cold prison in the dark night of my soul.
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