Can you see the words?
It’s their time, their season.
You’re lucky, you know? This is a rare sight.
Pure creation.
One could imagine it’s much like watching God,
That reverence you feel deep within you, emanating from nowhere, but echoing in every facet of your being.
We’re watching beauty and truth become fused together so perfectly,
You can’t even see the dividing line.
You can’t even recognize them as separate anymore.
That’s how He gets you.
That’s His allure.
He pulls the words around himself like a cloak fit for philosopher-kings,
Lets it brush by you when you walk,
Bringing you to your knees.
He injects us with ideas, ideologies and idealism,
And not even the strongest can stand up to Him.
Ha. I see that doubt, glimmering behind your half-closed eyes.
We’re not blind; we don’t miss you rolling your eyes, convinced we’re pathetically convinced.
A cynic, is what they call you, no?
It’s okay.
We all were, once.
But..
He moved us, you know? that glimmer in your eye? That doubt? He pulls that right out of you, but not like you’d expect. He doesn’t yell and kick or scream, doesn’t criticize you for being ‘wrong’. He doesn’t have to do anything to you at all. You’ll throw your doubt outside of yourself the moment you feel your cheek dampen, while watching Him. You’ll feel so much leave that you don’t need anymore; tools that got you here, but suddenly got outdated.
All this talk..
It’s strange, isn’t it?
To imagine that even the sub-characters in the World story; the Followers; us, develop behind the scenes like this..
Ha, I’m sorry, you’re not with me yet.
You’re stuck on Him.
Of course I’ll take you to Him.
But drop all that baggage,
All those thoughts you thought were conducive to thought and,
Follow me.
It’s their time, their season.
You’re lucky, you know? This is a rare sight.
Pure creation.
One could imagine it’s much like watching God,
That reverence you feel deep within you, emanating from nowhere, but echoing in every facet of your being.
We’re watching beauty and truth become fused together so perfectly,
You can’t even see the dividing line.
You can’t even recognize them as separate anymore.
That’s how He gets you.
That’s His allure.
He pulls the words around himself like a cloak fit for philosopher-kings,
Lets it brush by you when you walk,
Bringing you to your knees.
He injects us with ideas, ideologies and idealism,
And not even the strongest can stand up to Him.
Ha. I see that doubt, glimmering behind your half-closed eyes.
We’re not blind; we don’t miss you rolling your eyes, convinced we’re pathetically convinced.
A cynic, is what they call you, no?
It’s okay.
We all were, once.
But..
He moved us, you know? that glimmer in your eye? That doubt? He pulls that right out of you, but not like you’d expect. He doesn’t yell and kick or scream, doesn’t criticize you for being ‘wrong’. He doesn’t have to do anything to you at all. You’ll throw your doubt outside of yourself the moment you feel your cheek dampen, while watching Him. You’ll feel so much leave that you don’t need anymore; tools that got you here, but suddenly got outdated.
All this talk..
It’s strange, isn’t it?
To imagine that even the sub-characters in the World story; the Followers; us, develop behind the scenes like this..
Ha, I’m sorry, you’re not with me yet.
You’re stuck on Him.
Of course I’ll take you to Him.
But drop all that baggage,
All those thoughts you thought were conducive to thought and,
Follow me.
Leave everything you’ve loved behind.
Forget everything you’ve ever been taught.
Break every habit you’ve ever known…
Now, breathe..
And let’s begin.