“Call to me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know…” – Jeremiah, 33:3
His divergent mind sought not to believe, for that notion birthed the germ of its own negation: the possibility of being wrong. That wasn’t enough for him, for he loathed the thick bog to which so many have succumbed: the muddied waters that soil the opened mind; those swamps where uncertainty lurks inside; the contaminated oceans that separate “Sinners” from a “Divine.”
Inside such a conflicted mind, even to be convinced was ne’er the goal. Thunder and lightning sure roared within, but they were merely 24 years old. And, he finds, that to be convinced, despite its apparent appeal, is only the acceptance of someone else’s will — their swill. It’s essence is accepting defeat; its virtue is in someone else’s skills. Finally, it demands a faith in something the heart does not feel; faith in something to which our all-too-human cries could never, in a thousand years, reach nor appeal.
But, Alas! Inside his addled mind of turmoil and calm, of here and there, of his and everyone’s, of all and nothing, there is a clamour — a call — a loud request wrapped in armor. He clamours because he wants to be heard. He seeks the Answer because he wants the next step.
“Faith is no excuse for pusillanimity!” he growls aloud, for he’d chosen sides long ago. Rather, it is a virtue, but which he wants earned, not bought.
So he awaits…Awaits for an Answer to wash down upon him. For a light or a voice to illuminate the darkness. For a sign or a feeling to jolt the nerves. For the First Lightning to strike the night. For the kind of knowing that only he who is, and he who wants, can ever truly come to ignite.
And he remembers, as he vanishes in smoke, that faith is worth all when Earned, but nothing when Bought.