I’ve realized that suicide no longer scares us, in a way. To my friends, it’s normal; it’s just a part of culture. It’s all around us—we’re surrounded by it, and the thought hounds us. And when we only raise prevention when someone famous kills themselves, it’s just glorifying death. My friends, they’re not scaref of death. Our society today feeds off of the bad things. Even when we **** ourselves.

I wrote this back in October, but I don’t think I ever published it. I was thinking about it the other day and found it in one of the old notebooks I used to write my poems in. I’m still surrounded by darkness, and hounded with the temptation to return. I could give in. I could revert back to my sinful nature. I could let the night overwhelm me. But my Lord has anointed my head with oil; He has strengthened me with His righteousness and His holiness. He seats me in the presence of darkness for me to be the light. Sure, there is darkness—but that’s only the conflict of the story. God’s light is the driving plot.

I wrote this a couple weeks ago. I've written poems about how the night (literally or metaphorically) can be a dangerous place for me, because I let myself think too much and twist up the truth. But now, I don't let that rule me any more. When Jesus offers peace and joy, that doesn't mean we'll worry or fear any more—no, that's still holding onto our sinful nature, the way of life Jesus has saved us from. He offers a new life, without any worry or fear, and with complete joy and peace, requiring complete and total dependence on the Spirit. It's not hard, just ask the Spirit to help you. It's something that is built up and worked on throughout your faith, and sometimes, like me, you do have to go through a season of wilderness before you realize what it means to have total dependence on the Lord.

Philippians 4:6-8 ~ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think of such things.

It isn't enough to know God or even believe in who He is. No, God does not command or want us to merely believe in His love, in His grace, in the peace He's brought us. Because of what He has done, because of what He does in our lives, our lives should change. I've written a poem called "Torch", where I'm calling out to God to lead me out of the darkness. And He has, but that's not the end of the story. I am so thankful He has lead me out, and that He has defeated death to bring me a new life where I don't even have to fear the darkness. So because of what He's done, I will rejoice and share His Gospel, the Gospel that has transformed my life. It's not enough to "touch His torch", or to "stand on His porch". I am the torch; God is so gracious, that while I am still a sinner, He allows me to be His ambassador, a messanger of His Good News.

I am free from the tyranny of the defeated enemy within, and I am restored to my true humanity—the human vessel of God. The Lord has opened the windows of my faith and will move in to do the impossible. At first, I was scared to publish this, because I was still holding onto the fear that I won't measure up to this poem. I will still sumble, but when God invites me in to live in Him and Him in me, I am given a peace so graciously which overcomes these 'rooms', these 'islands', these fears, worries, self distrust. The old has died in Christ's burial, and my new life, the life He will live through me, has come through His resurrection.

I wrote this one about a week ago as well, along with "Distress Call". I've used the metaphor "blink" to represent letting yourself be dragged back to the darkness. Metaphorically, when we close our eyes, we see the darkness behind our eyelids, or the dark side of us. And for some reason, although we would prefer it wouldn't be there, that dark side of us is attracted to it. I've used the ocean to represent our emotion several times before, to show how vast our thoughts can be. When I let my sinful nature take control of me, I turn to these idols, or islands, rather than God, letting these trials and suffering (the winds and the waves) overcome me rather than relying on God as my strength.  The islands represent me taking it upon my own self to deal with my emotion. I go back to writing to put my trust and hope in this stronghold, or the islands. I call them my wrists, because I write to help me deal with the pain, and that can be dangerous when I do that rather than handing it over to God. I'm learning how important it is to hold onto truth and lean on God's wisdom and strength. As Paul says in the book of Romans, there are two laws at work within me: the law of the Spirit and the law of sin and death; I must choose which one to be a slave to—either I go back to the nature of sin and death, or I deny myself and my own desires to put God in His rightful place in my life and rely on His Spirit to take hold of my heart and transform me. I am weak, and in my weakness I must depend on the Spirit to guide me and overcome the temptation to revert back to or bow down to my sinful nature. (Read Romans 7:7-25)