Sweet Intoxication

It's Sunday afternoon. Sunny and moderately breezy. And my soul is at rest. From wars and the crashing waves of an ocean. So large. So vast. So wild.

There can be a lot that follows a person from childhood or youth, tucked away in the back pocket, stolen away under the couch, perched quietly in the tree in the front yard. Memories. Dreams differed. Anger. Frustration. Confusion.

I finally asked the father to reveal whatever it was that was keeping me from his love. And after rolling around sleeplessly, wrestling with things unseen and unknown, a still small voice said "confusion. desolation. despair."

My drive back from Mazzio's this afternoon was beautifully refreshing. Something deep inside was gone. Pain. Confusion. The oppression that's covered my brain and clogged my senses for years. Relieved.

Last night I did something very odd (or so some might think). I actually prayed for those things mentioned above, in the full power of God and the blood of Christ, to leave here and now. To go. They are not welcome here anymore.

And I've spent the afternoon with a smile and a light heart. There is something to this. Not quite sure what it all means. Can't understand the hidden things and the stuff that happens in the quiet places, in the dark.

But I am coming out of whatever it was that I've been under. And it's like seeing the sunset for the first time, smelling the fresh-cut grass with a new sense of smell, laughing with my gut. genuine laughter.

There is a song by Over the Rhine called the Drunkard's Prayer. It's the most peaceful thing I think. Simple piano chords. An upright bass. And a vocal stroll through the quiet places in the heart that are touched by the Maker.

My left hand smells from petting the neighbor's dogs before I came in a few minutes ago. And now I'm here, the house is quiet and refreshing.

The only noise comes from the yearning deep inside to finish cleaning the house from the break-in. But I'm fighting it with all my might. Right now, I'm drunk in the lack of fear, alive in a world without anxiety. And swollen inside by the presence of a peace, with words I cannot speak.

The Drunkard's Prayer- Over the Rhine
You're my water
You're my wine
You're my whiskey
From time to time

You're the hunger
On my bones
All the nights
I sleep alone

Sweet intoxication
When your words
Wash over me

Whether or not
Your lips move
You speak to me

Like an ocean
Without waves
You're the movement
That I crave

And in that motion
I long to drown
And be lost not to be found
You're my water
You're my wine
You're my whiskey
From time to time



Go my friend, with the comfort of the Father,

Sean