the first step

it's a constant drip...drip...drip

it's an incessant fly buzzing around my ear

it's a babble, interference, static, it's low and continuous

it doesn't stop, my first thought competing with all other thoughts in the morning

it's the battleground. And it's in my mind.

everyday I wrestle with a barrage of the unthinkable to the bazaar, the fantastical to the fanciful.

contrast this scuttle, this twisted stream of nonsense with the clarion call

to purity,

to vision,

to mission,

to celebration.

That's the difference. I see it now.

Am I trained as a warrior? A soldier of the mind?

Did I ever think I'd be in the place?

Will the scars of previous skirmishes bring strength and wisdom,

or

will they only entrench me further in my foolish ways?

I am undisciplined, I lack consistency, routine is difficult for me; yet I am bound to them, the foundational pieces that bring health and wholeness. I don't have a choice, the battle rages regardless of my personal preference. It's the essence of being alive, this choosing of the minute by minute path to engage in the battle or stand by, to fight for victory, or be slain by sin. And while forgiveness is always present, it can be the fool's way out, to justify the actions rather than fighting hard...

It's a more noble thing to seek forgiveness while engaged in the battle than to lazily plead mercy for no real effort at all.

I don't have to be so defeated.

I have the weapons to fight.

The First step is to acknowledge the battle exists.