Buried.

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What if all your dreams came crashing down? What if all your hopes were wiped out in a short series of events? Your vision, destroyed. Your identity, stolen?

The sun would rise the next day, but you would only see grey. The birds would sing their morning choruses, but at best, they would seem ignorant of your personal devastation. At worst, they would seem to be mocking you.

The world would continue forward, but you would feel stuck.

Shocked.

Stricken.

All your mojo evaporated and replaced by a heavy morass of grief and disillusionment.

There was a community of believers not too long ago who suffered through the same devastation. In a fell swoop, their dreams all came crashing down, as a voice cried out “It is finished” and His body slumped down on a cross.

Their hopes were crucified. Their dreams were buried. Their identity felt taken away from them.

And then the burial came and went. They were burying a body. A broken vessel that once carried their dreams of a better world.

Little did they know that inside that broken vessel being buried, were the vestiges to their past. They saw their future being whisked away, but their pasts were being wiped clean.

The vessel would soon rise, but the vestiges of their past would remain buried. Because to start a new future, you have to break free from the past. But the past has a way of tethering itself to us.

Unless someone with vision casts our eyes forward.
Unless someone with grace grants us a new identity.
Unless someone without sin, saves us from our own.

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One thought on “Buried.

  1. I really enjoyed this. Especially, “All your mojo evaporated and replaced by a heavy morass of grief and disillusionment.” And how your writing shifted there.

    Enjoy the holiday. Thanks for sharing your vision through your words.

    Liked by 1 person

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