You make me new.

Please pardon my absence.

I sit and write, with full heart but empty mind.

I have little to say of my own words that can make what's happened seem beautiful, but I can assure you, to God's glory, he is faithful to the oppressed and to those who seek Him earnestly and fervently.

It seems so much has happened, to my fall- yet to God's glory that I haven't the words to describe the means to my end- or the means that God plucked me out from the pit that I dug for myself.

I'll keep it short. Short, but not sweet. I made my bed in a place that looked a lot like hell for a little while. As honesty would have me admit, I stepped outside of His peace, and tried to create my own. Without going into much detail, I quickly learned (again) the consequences of an individual depraved. The truth is that it is much harder to find one's way back to the narrow, than it is to wander apart from it, and I've been reaping the consequences of this seed for longer than I'd like to mention. But by God's mercy He has taken the cup from me and given me the precious blood in it's place.

And I'd lay in bed long nights, with what felt like a heart of stone, and a cry that came from somewhere else would plead deliverance from the darkness that surrounded me.

Glory to God, and no credit of my own, I became desperate for the God of Whom I had stepped outside of.

I can see myself in that ocean again. There I was, dark, raining, and under water. The further I sank, the more desolate and dark, and my lungs ran out of air a long time ago, and maybe I died. I can't be sure.

And then, by no strength of my own, I found my way back to the place that my descent began in the first place. And my hungry lungs took a desperate and violent first breathe of air that flooded my spirit and rescued the soul of it's beholder. Resurrected.

You make me new.