Living, Breathing, Growing, Changing

It seems my mantra lately has been "Just breathe". Repeated over and over again in my head, and sometimes out loud because it seems my head is not convincing enough.

Deep, cleansing breaths that clear my head and reinforce my stubborn need to keep pushing. In. Out. Again. 

We are three months into the year. Not quite, even. 87 days. It has been a lifetime. I feel like everything has changed in 2014, my entire life has come up for review. And yet, nothing is different.

Every door is open, and yet my days are haunted with the echoes of them creaking closed. 

I cannot move fast enough.

I move too fast. 

I know nothing. 

My head is over loaded with knowledge. 

There are too many choices. 

There is no choice. I am stuck.

Stationary.

But spinning.

Terror.

Excitement.

Peace.

Anxiety.

Stillness...

The God that i serve is incredible. He is so much bigger than my confusion. He is so sure and quiet while i run scared and chaotic. 

How do we know what the will of God is?

How do we differentiate His desires from our selfish dreams?

All my life i have promised that i would go anywhere, EVERYWHERE, He asked me to. What if He asks me to stay?

BREATHE.

Haggard, struggling, broken breaths. Fear prickles in the back of my brain. Whispers that i am wrong, that i am missing it, overwhelm me. My knees buckle. My throat constricts.

Breathe.

Peace. 

Panic.

How the two intermingle so perfectly i never will know.

'Catch me' a writing prompt

I'm running as fast as I can. My lungs burn, sweat stings my eyes, my legs feel like jelly. Still I push. Farther, faster. I haven't looked behind me in a long time. Possibly, the danger is gone. Possibly, I am alone. But i can't slow down, I can't turn to check. I can't lose ground.

Sometimes, in the darkness I hear His voice. It is barely more than a whisper. Nearly drown out by the thundering of my feet, by the pounding of my own blood in my veins, by the screaming of my fear. Yet, when He speaks, my ears strain to listen. For in His voice is the promise of hope. The promise of peaceful stillness, the promise of freedom. Above all else, I yearn for freedom.

They are sweet words, cooling whispers to my tired soul, and heaven help me I am tempted to stay. To follow the voice and let go. Surrender calls to me and I believe it would be an easy release.

But I am afraid. So afraid, the terror makes my chest feel a hundred pounds. I have been running so long there is no familiarity in stillness. Nothing more than a poignant memory of quiet. I fear that which I do not know. I fear escaping one plight only to replace it with another. I fear a trap. A promise too good to be true. And so I continue to run, wishing I could stop my legs. Lean against a tree a rest for a moment, take a deep breath or the cool air of nightfall, open my ears and my heart to the Voice and let It consume me.

I run, praying for nothing me than that He would catch me.