I was reminded very recently that I'm still in the midst of a time of preparation, but I don't feel prepared. I look behind me, only for a moment because it's all I can stand, and I see barren battle grounds covered mostly with my own blood. The product of my mistakes, my failures, and missed opportunities. So my walk has been far from graceful, if I were being honest I don't believe it's even near as bad as it could have been. Then again, the contrast of perfection is a harsh one and regrets are better abandoned initially rather than chained to your wrist. I'm not who I was. Something I've told myself more times than I care to count.
I'm uncomfortable, and restless. Addiction has been reaching out again, grasping for my throat. Never again. If there's one thing I've learned it's that I don't want to be there again. Not even a dog will return for a second kick.
Father, I'm impatient. Calm my restlessness, bring me to renewal in my trust in you. You alone know the plans you have for me. Continue to refine your servant, and place him strategically for your glory, and the recovery of the lost. Just like Peter, I want to walk on the water. Forgive me for looking away. Give me your eyes so I can see the things you see, both in myself and in others. Bring balance, or at the very least a headstrong, wind at my back sprint toward you. Stop me in my tracks from passing by your work. Strengthen me for the journey ahead. My cross. Your life. Your timing. Our love.
-Archer
