Ode to a Front Desk

The chains that keep me here are completely psychological. Superficially, it's the threat of someone getting annoyed with me, or thinking less of me if I'm not at my post. But go a step deeper and you see that it's the fear of losing my job. The want for money. The fear of unpaid debts.

I don't know though. It may be even deeper than that. No, not may...is. It's the fear of failure. Creeping up on me again. I don't want to fall, to not be able to take care of myself. That's always been something I was good at - not needing help. But the result has left me hollowed out, tapping on a worn out keyboard in this cave. An isolated perch, seeing all and feeling none of it. Watching and guiding and smiling and waving. Never doing. Experiencing. I need to fall. To break my skin on concrete, if only to feel the thrill of gravity and the sharpness of pain. And then the joy - oh the sweet, electrifying joy - of getting up again and running to the arms of my beautiful Father.

I'm doing the right thing. I know I am.
And I'll make it through this. I know I can.
Everything I do is for a season.
But sometimes I just wish I knew the reason.