“I miss being a slave…”

I once read this really long, crazy story of this sizable group of humans thousands of years ago that were slaves somewhere in North Africa for like…400 years or something like that. The story goes on tell about some universal force (like…Yoda type ish) just waltzed in and was like. “Yo! Free my bros or else!” and then went on to cause a series of unfortunate events that not even Lemony Snicket could fathom.

Well, naturally these guys were freed. I mean, sometimes when the universe sends a message you just got listen. Not only are they freed, but they up and walk out with the whole nation’s gold supply and all sorts of stuff. Then this force (we’ll call it God for political correctness and stuff) feeds them with mystery…stuff (it really isn’t clear what it is) and brings water out of rocks!

The weird part of this story (other than everything I just stated) is that after all that these tribe-folk actually wanted to go back to being slaves! Like what the frapp?!?!

Disturbingly, I find myself in this story. I’m one of these poor bastards who keeps wanting to go back to the slavery I once knew as a teen/college student. I think fondly of the places I used to exist. Why? Because this shrink I’m going through now frapp’n sucks! 

The pain I’m going through presently has become more real than the pain I used to endure. I got used to it and got comfortable in my self hatred and darkness. As the light unveils what was hidden, I find I’m not really liking what I see or feel. 

This of course is just as stupid as that good ole story I just mentioned. God does all this crazy stuff and all I can do is sit around and complain.

I got good at it back when complaining was sensible and more than warrented. Now I’m entitled as foop and acting like a weak little Nietche cause I’m finding all this “too hard.”

But just like in that story, I keep getting grace and I am not allowed to go back, no matter how much I want to go and sit in my proverbial feces. 

Maybe one day I’ll find humility and be allowed to leave this desert. Maybe one day I can get excited about the paradise ahead and leave my slavery behind. 

God willing…

3 thoughts

  1. I empathize with what you’re feeling… but.
    When my kids were young we had a rule: no name calling, no put downs. It was meant to teach them to respect others. It also applied to one’s self. No calling yourself “stupid” or “lazy”, or anything else you could come up with.
    I’m calling you out on this, Stephen. You often refer to yourself in extremely negative terms. You call yourself names. You may not speak of my friend, Stephen, like that in my presence. He is a unique creation, a child of God, made in His image. He is flawed, and sinful, and far from what God intended him to be, yes. As are we all. As are we ALL. That does not give you permission to speak so badly of him.
    Who can you imagine is speaking those words through you? Who is filling your head with these accusations? Do these sound like the words of Jesus? Or do they sound like someone else…perhaps known as the accuser? Whose words will you choose to believe?

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