Sometimes in the Dead of Night

Sometimes in the dead of night a memory of my past slips back into my consciences to haunt my waking moments. 

Their purpose?  A curse to remind me of fleeting experience wrapped up in nights and days that I'd rather just forget all together.  

Yet these ancient ghosts are stirred to life again. Maybe it's a smell or a feeling and a sound. Maybe is the combination of a sight and a taste. Sometimes it's just a color, but when these aberrations strike they enslave me again locked in the memories of my past.  

The guilt in these moments seem unbearable. I'm easily crippled--incapacitated--paralyzed in their glare. Escaping them is quite impossible. Running?  Futile. For forever frozen, just looking for the solution. 

But isn't that just the way of an enemy?  Attack with the most paralyzing of possible fears?

Perhaps so.  In fact, I'm certain, yes.

The most paralyzing of possible fears.

To look at the my past may stir my self doubt and my self hatred, but to look at the future I see only hope.  Where darkness once reigned now light, only, remains.

Oh, to live in the light of a new day...
of a new dawn...
of a new tomorrow...
of a new start
watching the past slip back into the bottomless hole of my memories
     and feeling the warmth of light eternal hold me in the stillness of precious silence.
    His love surrounds me again.

"For now there is no condemnation to those who are in
Christ Jesus..."

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