The fury of the flame

Hello nameless reader (unknown, yet well-known), here's a journal entry I just wrote. I'm posting this here because I think it might resonate with some people. If it doesn't resonate with you, don't worry about it; it's probably just nonsense (there is so much nonsense online, after all). Regards.

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Where can I find the joy for my soul? Where is it found? I've heard many people speak about joy, in many ways. Many have prophesied this over me, that my joy would be a breakthrough for this city. I have, in fact, heard this from several Cambridgites. I know the answer, such a bold, naive man that I am. In the presence of the Lord, in fact, is fullness of joy. At his right hand, there are pleasures forever more. What kind of answer is this, then? It's a simple one; either God comes down, and encounters me every day and every night, or I go up, and see his face and rest, at last. I have found brief moments of rest, here on the earth, but it feels like it's been a long time since then.

Whether on heaven or on the earth, I know that the presence of God is what will satisfy. There are three things that are never satisfied, four that never say, "Enough!": Sheol, the empty womb, the earth, which continually drinks in water and is not satisfied, and fire, which never says "Enough!". What has the power to satisfy a flame, to satisfy the earth that continually drinks water? What can quench the thirst of the flame, that only grows stronger as it eats more? What thing, in heaven or earth, has the power to satisfy that hunger, that all-consuming hunger of the flame? In my heart, I say this is a paradox with no answer, this is a Gordian Knot with no resolution; that the flame will continue to burn, and every answer given, everything fed to this thing will only increase the hunger, increase the flame. How many cookie-cutter philosophers are there with their pat answers to the questions of life? How many third-rate mystics, scribes, salesmen of bliss, offering happiness to all and giving happiness to none? And the more answers one acquires, the less one finds satisfaction there. And yet, in my heart I know that You are the answer. I don't even know how; everything I've seen in my life says the opposite; that there is no answer. Yet still I know that you are the answer. You know how to silence the flame, the all-consuming blaze.

There is only one answer, really, and I'm fully incapable of giving it. I know the hunger and the pain of the fire that burns within, that sees no respite and will not be quenched. It refuses all comfort; it refuses satisfaction. It allows only a single answer to be given, and it's an answer that I have no power to speak. I only hold the question; I hold the desire; I hold the inner barrenness, the empty womb. You see, my life is the empty womb, and it is not satisfied, it does not say, "Enough!"

My life, too, is the grave, Sheol, the pits where dead things lay. It has become a place of death, not to be too morbid or overly dramatic (and I surely hate exaggerated drama).

My life is like the earth, that drinks in water and yet is not satisfied. And I do not hold the water; I merely drink what is given to me by another.

An empty jar of clay; that's what I am. For I am poor and needy, may the Lord look upon me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God.

So I don't have any answers; I simply have questions. Thusly I look and wait for the One who is the answer; His ministrations alone will quench the fury of the flame, the unceasing hunger of the grave, of the barren and empty womb, the thirsty and dry land. Who can answer such a question? Who can give satisfaction? To whom can my eyes turn, that I might see and be satisfied, and find rest for my soul?

I've heard of One, to whom I can turn. I hold no power over him. He does as he pleases. He turns where he will, and I cannot lay my hand upon him and say, "No." Thusly, in my poverty and need, I have no power to bring about my own salvation (and what a dreadful 'salvation' men might work upon me! I fear such things.). My eyes turn to the One who is my salvation, and upon him will I wait.