Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 13
A recent musical discovery for me is the song “39” by The Cure. Sure, it’s been around for awhile, I have even had it in my library for a few years, but it just never made it into my rotation. I have a lot of music by The Cure and I listen to my favorites all the time, rarely digging into the wealth of all they have to offer me. Finally, I played my full arsenal of The Cure and I discovered “39”.
This song could have been my theme song for the last few years. I love the lyrics about how everything in life used to be fuel for the fire that burned within. Everything fed the flames. That is/was true of me. There was a time when everything, good bad or everything that fell in between served as fuel to keep a massive fire burning inside my spirit. But, like the song, I am now in the place where the fire is almost out and there is nothing left to burn. All that happens around me, even the good, even the exciting, seem feeble fuel for such a fire.
And that hurts.
Breaking a vow is a terrible thing and it crushes us. That is part of the power of vows. It is easy to disregard them as mere words, but vows lock into our spirit. They can be horribly heavy to carry at times, but breaking them steals something form our souls. We are somehow less.
I have become a man I vowed I would never be. When the fire was raging and everything fed it, it was easy to believe I could never become this man. It was easy to despise others who were where I am now. The vow was such a tiny, tiny burden then.
But it almost feels like there are forces out there that attack vows. Forces that want to destroy us and destroy our spirits and they know the power of vows, so they use them against us.
That is part of why it feels so hard to get the fire going again. I shouldn’t be here. My soul has been injured in landing as awkwardly as I have in a place with so little fuel for a few dying embers. But I don’t want to stay here. I want to have that raging fire in me again. So, I nurture the little fire I have left. I feed it what fuel I can find and breathe all the life into it that I can.
I think I need the breath of God to give some serious life to these embers, like when god breathed on Adam and Eve and gave them life. Like when he breathed into the all the carcasses in the valley of dry bones in Ezekiel, bringing hem back to life. I think this might be the only way that the fire within me becomes a raging blaze again. I think that is the only way that everything in my life will become fuel for the fire again.