Pray Ceaselessly, move constantly.

Hebrews 6: 4-6 "For it is impossible to restore to repentance those who were once enlightened- those who have expirienced the good things of Heaven and shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the Word of God and the power of the age to come and who then turn away from God. It is impossble to restore such people to repentance agagin because they are nailing the Son of God to the cross again by rejecting him and holding him up to public shame."

If you have come here looking for something, I must tell you now my brother or my sister, that you are in the wrong place.

I intend for this blog to be something like the "Bat Signal." Or a personals add, I suppose. But perhaps I should begin at the beginning.

I was a born again christian. At the age of fourteen, I came to know Jesus as my personal savior against the will of my parents, in a backwoods little baptist church with a couple of my friends.

YHWH is real, brother and sisters. If you are reading this and thinking that I am full of shit, I would simply ask you to listen. Do you hear it? The sound of your breath. The bible says that if we do not praise God, the very rocks will cry out to him. Even if you don't believe, I tell you now that each time you breathe you join the chorus of creation from the moment of the fall. Inhale. Exhale. YHWH. You are praying with every Thing his hands shaped.

But I am straying. And, incendentially, I strayed.

To another woman, actually. I didn't really have an excuse but I fell in love with her, or at least I thought I did. She's been gone for years, and so has what I gave up to be with her.

Three years, to be perfectly accurate. I'm 19. And I am resigning.

It began with my grandmothers (bear with me reader, this isn't "Girl, Interupted") They are both mentally ill. It skipped a generation and I skipped into one psychiatrists office after another. And I skipped into the hospital, between those sanitized sheets always, always believing that in the end it would help.

It hasn't yet. I couldn't tell you if I've remained hopeful or not.

Anyway, I am going to wrap this up. The fact of the matter is, oh my unfortunate reader, that in a backwards effort to restore some feeling to my own heart I am going to fill this blog with all the things no one knows. All of my sins, my lies and my flith.

I don't have anywhere's else to put them, you see.

Consider this my Exodus to the Promised Land. That is, if you are planning to consider this. I welcome comments, although I don't expect them. I welcome advice, although I don't think it will help. But I am praying and I am moving, even if it's only my fingers accross the keyboard.

It still counts, doesn't it?

Yours in fractures,
The Saint