Edge of Sight

It’s always there.
Slinking in the corner of my sight; visible, yet, at the same time, I cannot make out its shape.It looks like a boar: a wild and crazed boar with murder in its eyes. Made not of flesh and fur, this animal, this creature lurks at the edge of my sight made of shadows that are ever moving, ever changing, ever threatening. From the shadows of its body, rays of darkness flow. These rays threaten to envelop my entire sight. What scares me the most of this monster is not its shape or composition or all-consuming darkness but rather its inactivity. This fiend in my vision simply sits there, waiting. It taunts me; it calls me to itself, yet when I turn, it’s moved somewhere else. I can’t ever catch it, can’t ever fully see it. Only glimpses. Oh how horrifying it would be to fully see that wicked thing!
It’s slowly destroying me by doing nothing. This fiend turns me into its own weapon. Frustration grips me because I can’t rid myself of this thing. Fear cripples me because I’m weak to do anything about it. Annoyance picks at my mind because this creature will not leave. These flaws in perfect magnification serve to blockade any joy, any happiness, any growth in my life.
It’s always there.
What is this fiend? Why does this unnamed entity seek my destruction? What did I do to evoke such malice?

GO AWAY!


Still there.
This thing is stifling me. This thing is suffocating me. I can’t live with this monster always creeping in the corner of my sight. The monster consumes my entire concentration. If I don’t rid myself of this evil, it will consume me entirely. I will cease to exist as myself. I will be an extension of the monster, a shadow.

I need change. I need something different. I need light.

No such hope exists.
I surrender. I surrender to you. Envelope me in your shadows. I’m through.
Take me in my sleep.




How strange. How incredibly and wonderfully strange. It’s gone! Lying here with my eyes closed, the beast is gone, and a light has taken its place. A perfect light. I can feel the warmth of this light on my cheeks, yet the light is so far off. It’s beautiful. What’s more, the shadows are gone.
There’s a man. A man is coming from the light. No, the man is the light. The light exudes from this man, yet the light doesn’t want to leave such a perfect host. With all of its might the light tries to return to the man, but the light knows it must herald its former host.

With tentativeness, I ask, “Who are you?”
In a voice so majestic, so wonderful, yet so powerful he replied, “I am Hope. Follow me.”
With a courage not my own, I stepped forward. “Where did it go? That monster?”
“Despair you mean? He can’t stand to be near while I am present. He knows that he is not as strong as I.”
He spoke truth. You could feel it in his voice. I was resolved. This man was to be my focus. With all my focus on him, not one particle of a shadow dared to touch my life. When I turned from Hope, Despair came back with vengeance and savaged my life.

The solution? Return to Him. Return to Hope.

Return to Jesus.