Overcome and Genovese flags

We sometimes receive the word in the light or the lens of the things that we hold in our hearts. So sometimes, we corrupt the guidance that is there, just because of what we want to see. Behind our surface sincerity in seeking lies the selfishness that we wish we could leave behind. I'm more guilty of keeping those lenses intact when I should have put them away long ago. I'd rather have heard it than continue to live in a soma-soaked world where I deceived myself into thinking that what I saw was really about what I wanted it to be about.

Sometimes this is hard to call like it is, because those lenses keep clouding over with our own heavy breath. Wanting things doesn't make them real, right, or wrong. It just makes them out there, and we have to keep dealing with them and doing our best to see if the guidance that we think we are getting is real or is just in the light of what we want.

Sometimes also means that I can, on occasion, perceive clear guidance and really see what it was that I was being shown. It is these instances where I can paint an accurate portrait of where I am supposed to go, of what I am supposed to be doing. I don't know if I've been seeing one of those times of late, or if it's just my lenses again, but I also think that a thing I've been impressed with a lot over the last year is that I have to take steps, not just be passive. Come what may, I will run. Despite the risk, despite the probable lack of reward, despite worldly counsel around me and in my own head, I will run. In my brokenness, I can be empowered forever, if I would just run.

In my guys group tonight, we talked about the father of No Mercy and Not My People. We talked about how he had to be broken, be humbled before he could bring the message. And how the fallow ground must be broken for the seeds to be sown and the rain to come. I can't break the fallow ground in anyone else, so I'll break it in my own heart first. Not through actions or deeds, but through returning the greatest of these. The cool refreshment that I, and so many others, so often regard as saltwater. We're swimming in an ocean of it, but we drown of thirst because we won't drink it.