I let the world wash over me trapping and burying me in clay. It has me answering questions that would make a significant change. It has its many uses on its beautiful face it is ugly and brutal how it beats me into place.

But its truth reveals the parts of me reluctant to change. Its rhythm captures me and makes me sway like a drunkard down the hall to his ultimate fate.

I am enthralled and invigorated by the chase. I am nothing if not something has me running in place. Then I will stop to look back with a tear in my eye when I gaze.

I will see what really mattered when I am low and the blood rushes away from my face. When my eyes roll back and my skin turns gray. That will be the day. The day I enter Life as it were intended and I will see you face to face.

Written by: Ryan Seth Cole

I have hope that one day I will shed this carnal flesh and Become Like Christ. That one day I can walk with peace in my heart and the struggle with sin will be done. I have hope that one day there will be a unity that will be unbroken with me and the trinity. A day in which I can walk with God through a beautiful garden and talk and I ask him all the questions I can think to ask Him.

I look forward to the day that I won’t suffer and feel heartbroken consistently. A day where I’m not facing a storm but it’s clear sunny days and perfect peace among all. I look forward to a day where we can all love one another without having an agenda.

I love the idea of a beautiful mansion in the sky with golden streets and crystal oceans. But when I sit and reflect on what I really want in this life. Is to be with the Lord and walk the way I was made to walk and have a perfect relationship in harmony with The Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

We all got big goals and small goals guiding us. This at my core is what guides me. I fall every day. The pendulum swings back in forth. I am with Him and then I am touching the top of hell. Under the power of this curse, I want to shed this carcass and become glorified like Him. I want to be with Him in Heaven.

I am a wretched sinner who is only saved by grace and if one day I manage to find my way down that narrow path to heavens door. I pray I might just be with Him. I could be heavens janitor and it would be the greatest honor I don’t deserve. I did nothing to attain salvation. It was the Lords will that He Send His only begotten son to die for me and elect me before the foundation of the world.

I struggle with the idea that I am unworthy and I don’t deserve His mercy and yet He pours onto me waterfalls of blessings and mercy. He visits me and He touches my heart wherever He might decide to fix next. I am a weak peasant slug in a white robe, wearing a golden crown on my head and it is all His. Everything is for His pleasure. He is King of Kings. Lord of Lords. My refuge, my comfort, my Father and my friend.

I pray that you might sanctify me, that you might use me. I pray that I might be a useful instrument to your will. I pray that I might delight you with the aroma of my prayer. I pray you might Bless my family, my friends and my enemies. You hold the keys to every door and you are in control. You are alpha and omega. It is all for you and your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Praise His blessed name, King Jesus. Lord of ALL! Amen and Amen!

-RSC

The glass screen door hits my foot on the way out the door as I pull it close. I pull my jacket down as I enter the cold. I breath in the brisk air and look up at the blue night sky.

My breath fogs the view of a star up high. I fear the day that you will soon some day die. The day of your departure, when you spread your wings and fly.

Your warmth as you held me close to your polyester side, where I would fall asleep on you on that wooden church bench as we would listen to grandfather preach in between sigh’s.

I picture all of this in my mind as I look up at the blue night sky. The table where we would sit and talk for hours about your history and mine. The same table you taught me how to find in me the strength and reason to fight. The same table I told you, I found my wife. That same table you and papa prayed over me when I would cry.

I know your with me now and I cherish you and that is the reason I write. I can’t wait until you walk with Jesus. You have been longing for that day your entire life but I know once your gone I am going to cry.

I told you that I would not. I told you I would celebrate your life but tonight I know as I look up at the blue night sky. I know that I will have to let you go and it’s going to make me cry. I love you Grammy. Thank you for being in my life.
-RSC

I am surrounded by comforts and convenances as I pack the cub-bards, lining them with provisions. Some of which I will not get to before they perish. I pay no mind to the clouds that gather above my head because I will soon walk into the shelter of my luxurious home.

I close the door sealing out the pestilence. the last part of my home barricaded by all the elements. I seat myself in a climate controlled throne where I waste away watching the regurgitation of one talking head to another. I stand at once to pour my cup out into the sink.

I look out the window and see a horizon of red illuminated by the smoke and fires that grow beneath it. I close the blinds and I make my way to the master bedroom. I take off my custom made clothes and fold them neatly at the foot of my bed. I brush my teeth and put on my pajamas as I hear a thunder in the distance grow closer . I turn on my fan to drown out the noise. I then lay myself down and nestle the silk of my pillow.

I begin to fall asleep not quite past Rapid eye movement. I am then ripped from my bed. I am drug down the stairs pulling banisters back resisting my pursuer’s. They’re strength to much to my own they quickly over power me.
My finger nails dig into the decking of my lavish hardwood sprawl. There is no hope for me at this point. I then am hit with a blunt object and loose consciousness.

I awake with a bag over my head and my hands tied behind my back. The dry air and exhaustion from my screams make my mouth dry. I feel insects crawl on me not as an infestation but as a hindering concentration on my hands and feet. I don’t know what they are but they bite me like fire ants.

I cannot shake them loose. Once I do my hands and feet are  bound down by my captors. They shout at me slurs and demand I renounce. They beat me with they’re fist and feet. They grab me up and drag me down a long hall. I am pushed to the floor and then picked up. My head is shoved down as they submerge me in water. Over and over and over again. I begin blacking out because my body is entering a breaking point.

I am then drug back down the hall and cast back into my dark room.
This continues for days as I am being starved. I begin eating the ants that bite my hands and feet. I drink the water I can when I am being dunked over and over again. I begin to try and adapt to this tormented routine. I am far past depression I am numb and I am hopeless.

I am so lonely I try conversing with my captors. They don’t speak in my language so I try to make myself believe what they say back to me are kind and hopeful things.
They demand that I renounce in my language. It is the only thing I understand the entirety of my stay. I sense the desperation in they’re tone they almost seem sad that I am not responding to they’re abuse. I fear they will soon grow tired of trying and end me as a result.

The next morning I awake with a cold blade on my neck. I shout out “I renounce! I begin crying and shouting out; I renounce!” They pick me up and break my bonds and sit me in a chair. One officer removes the bag over my head and I see for the first time in I don’t know how long. Another officer hands me a glass of water and my face falls in shame and relief.
This is the real beginning of my torment.

After giving me instructions and sending me on my way. I …..

To be continued…

I aint no *****. I aint no tinker; like a tinker would think. Im just an old cow poke with no leather to sink my teeth. Been riding for days aint came across the first drop to drink.

Sure is nice of you mam to let me in by the smell of my stink.

You see; I lost my cattle about a few miles back. We got seperated by a sand storm. Boy this coffee is about as thick a pinewood sap. Mam, please dont take offense; I sure do appreciate the gesture. I suppose a cool glass a water might do the trick.

Now as I was saying, I was on my way up from Wyoming to drive a herd for a bargain. Well I guess I would say I got started early this morning.

I got me a ranch out in Laramie. Well actually a buddy of mine does. We started up and then it began storming. I haven’t seen him since. Mam could you do me a favor if he does. If he shows up; could you tell him I have gone to gather up them horses.

Could you ask if he could stick around, what matters is that we’re safe and that’s important. We can regroup in a couple of hours. Head on back on up the trek, make up for lost time and try to save our appointment. If that ain’t no burden to you misses?

-RSC