Instead of gathering children from the rain, I'm laced with the protection of urban civilisation, calm and silent. My inner voice is staying vigil alongside the pouring overcast. I agape a small gap of my window open, just to listen to the rain and breathe its descend. I feel strangely disconnected from everybody and everything that's revolving around my room. Call it fatigue and refuelling if you may, but this has to take the cake for being life's only refuge of present. It kicks in so much gear, just to carry me to a point so low I just wish to freeze happy moments.
Today marks down another day, in anticipation to the final one before I discontinue my smoking habits. It's the same familiar experience of dreading yet another birthday. I'm the biggest atheist of my own date of birth, and know not what to expect this 21st.
Apart from all that, I'm also defacing from the camping line and Andrew's camp will be my last. Reluctant as this all is, the political issues are simply worsening and frankly speaking, disheartening. I have not the heart to witness the undeserving downfall of a certain chief and the fact that CampHA is exploiting their instructors' kindness. I've never learnt a social lesson as personal and bitingly sentimental as I have from this saga. What most revolts me is the face that these instruments of our Lord, hold themselves high as pedestals of faith's just scale, yet consciously make choices to behave lukewarm. These people teach children of the rising generations, that choices are followed up by consequences. Are they all now blinded by power and reign to comprehend the dires of the choices they lay before them? Lord, you gave them the gift of your love, but they dwell on wicked deeds and still indulge pleasure from their doings. Why have your children become so weak?
"Upset" is an understatement of the emotional terms that are savaging within me. Human nature is ugly as this, and I don't want to become it.
Just last night, realisation crashed onto me like wild tides onto a calm shore. I have been so concerned about the welfares of camp life and friends that I have disappointingly neglected the family I claimed to love most. How could I not have noticed my sister's distress? I'm up to my neck, bottled with worry for my little one. This is the part whereby I understand, that prayers are futile and empty, until you act on the subject of them all. Indeed, the weather spells me and gravity burdens my muse.
Lord, help me out, help me listen and learn, help me forget and live past grudges and regrets. help me not to stay jaded in this wretched life I'm heading my directions in, teach me to love like I claim I do, forgive my human self, guide me towards the path of your grace. I pray that we, your children, will always learn to love our neighbours before hating them. It can be done.
Be with me. I can't do it on my own. I'm tired.