The Muse.

There are words that stay with me forever. Some words I capture like fireflies and keep them in a jar, pulling them out ever-so-often to stand amazed at their illuminating wisdom. Others are like a deep stain that is impossible to remove despite how hard I scrub. In fact, the harder I try to remove the words, the deeper they bury into my heart.

As I write in this blog and even with paper and pen at home, I sometimes notice that I try to filter God out as a character. It is hard to do because whether I admit it or not, He has his hand in everything that goes on in my life. But today, I am struggling with why I do this.

Once I had a talk with my uncle. He is not a believer, but I believe God is pursuing him diligently. I believe this because he is so curious to what I believe, and he constantly asks me questions about the Bible and Jesus.
Although he is not a follower of Jesus, he is very smart and intelligent and most giving. But one day he told me these words in a conversation we were having: "I do believe that Christianity is for those who are coward and weak. They use it as a crutch, especially if they've had a rough life."

I was taken back. Was he calling me weak and coward? I mean, I've had a rough life, but I don't think that I am weak. I took offense.

So, unfortunately, I have tried to write in an edited fashion. Leaving God out sometimes. I didn't want to use God as a crutch. I never want to be called "weak" or "coward". Who does?

But, in my pride-- I dismissed my one Beautiful Muse. He is the Muse for all I do: writing, singing, breathing, living, loving, going, coming, playing, dancing, eating, drawing, listening, talking, helping, being helped, running, walking, ect. Everything is because of Him.

I love my uncle. I pray for him with an intense love, hoping for God to turn something in his heart that would open his eyes to the things unseen.

And I know those words- "weak" and "coward" will always be there, confronting me like little daggers being thrown by the Enemy. Especially in difficult times.
But, in my natural state, I suppose I am weak and coward. We all are born to be that way. Hense, we put our hope in sin. We realize our weakness and we coward to sin in order to survive. But we are dead. Christ brings life. He is our source of strength and courage. Without Him, we have no muse. We have no strength. We have nothing. He is not our crutch, but He is our Everything. Our Hope.

He is our Muse.

-MP