such a lonely soul.

The night has lately become a haunting time for me, when my demons come out to play.  I’m not even being dramatic by saying that.  My mind has felt like the devil’s playground before, yes, and in a much worse way, but now that my mind has rearranged a bit, there are new weaknesses, new ways to play…

everyone else is so nice, and I’m just not good anymore
“what have I become?
I’m sorry.”

everything is black and white, all my fears on shuffle and repeat, scrolling through the list of things I should’ve said, the times I should not have laughed, the things I should have done, I am on trial and I am not going to make it.

then last night I read these words, from a song called “Ghost of a King.”1

met a ghost of a king on a road
words of fire
he said you are a lonely soul
with a heart of stone
that rakes against your thirsty bones
such a lonely soul.

In my heart I wanted to scream.  a heart of stone raking against thirsty bones.  I am a lonely skeleton, and when I realized that I started to cry.  These words cut straight to my core like nothing else has for a long time.  I wasn’t even listening to the song, I was just reading the lyrics, and I was crying.

I didn’t want to keep reading, I knew what came next.  But my eyes traveled involuntarily to the next words.

I can show you what can save you
but we need to go
where no chariot can take you
where the river meets the sand
there is water there
that can quench your thirsty bones
and make you well

“I can show you what can save you.”  my shoulders and chest feel so heavy right now under this incredible truth.  Something can save me from myself.  Something can save me and make me well!  make me well.

but we need to go.

that’s the clincher.  We need to go.  I need to take my Savior’s hand and find this water.  what is holding me back?  why do I not want to do this?  Why do I not want the thing that can quench my thirsty bones and make me well?

it’s because I am afraid.  fear is just as blind as love.  I am afraid of going in over my head, of losing myself, of giving up control of my life.

why do I want to control my life?  I know where that’s gotten me.  To the edge of a cliff.  When I think of how well I’ve managed my life on my own, I want to swear.  Excuse me.  (That’s righteous anger.)

this line comes to me: “I get caught up in all these petty things, losing sight of what matters to You.”2  God, is it true that my character is, for now, a petty thing?  Is it true that what matters to you is that I seek your face and your kingdom and trust that your grace will come with it?

can I take one step, beyond the eclipse?


  1. “Ghost of a King,” by The Gray Havens, 2016 
  2. “Gravity,” by Jenn Johnson, 2017. 
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