I’m weary. And creation’s groaning with me. Inwardly of course. Because no one has time to dry the tears of an endless fountain. A spring. An ocean. A river that’s not seasonal. Pain that’s more than emotional.
It’s not a phase. It’s a lifetime of longing. Waiting. Hoping. This drug we acquire in moments of despair and detest in moments of weakness. Of defeat.
An eternity of waiting. Waiting that ends in eternity. How can we hope for what we already have? That’s not hope. How can we have faith in something that we can see? That’s not faith. That’s sight.
We’re inducted into a life of blindness. Darkness. Certainty in uncertainty. A guarantee. A seal that we can’t see.
It’s not a phase. It’s forever. I like forever. Forever is now. Now is always. Forever is always. It’s more than a moment. It’s every moment. Being is now. Being is tomorrow. Being is always. Being is forever. I like forever.
I don’t like forever. Forever hurts me. Forever isn’t a phase. Forever demands everything of me in every moment. Forever demands that I be present. Forever demands that I feel and think and BE. I don’t want to be.
It’s not a phase. It’s forever.
I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.
Romans 8:18-25
Soliloquy 