Darkness between the Fireflies

People don’t truly want the truth. They want what they see to be true. You don’t want to know that before choosing the right, I desperately and near fully want to give into the wrong. You want me to be perfect just as deeply as I wish I could be. You don’t really want to know how all consumingly sinful I am or that I tire of doing what is right and wonder if it is at all possible to start. Because this is all terribly depressing. Or so it seems. But these things bring me no depression. They are just thoughts in my head.

My thoughts don’t stay here long. They bounce to things like falling in love and whether Jesus would have read books. Which then in turn become complicated again, because I am complicated. It bounces to all the reasons I need to fix this and all the ways I could. Sometimes, if I am lucky, it even bounces back to the bible. Where I remember how screwed up David was, or how much we need people like Moses, who seems to have had it right more than most. Or even to Paul, who even as he was perfect in the eyes of his fellow Christians, could feel the depth of power in sin, as he wanted to do what was right and could not, but could do what was not right.

And I am young and ‘perfect’ and just as foolish as I always promised myself I would not be. But I think that is ok.  I’ve lost my rush to grow up. One day I’ll be old and wise, telling my children how they shouldn’t be in a hurry because it doesn’t last forever. And I have always been one to see into the future. And it takes a lot of pushing to keep me still and in the moment. There really is a time for everything. But we live in a world that says quite the opposite. That the time is when you choose for it to be. Drink now, have sex now, play now, work now. Do it all. It wouldn’t exist if not for you to enjoy. But that sentence loses the magnificence of timing. Things lose their importance when you do not work for them, I have always been taught. Maybe the same goes for timing. Maybe things lose their importance if you never waited for them. Would being in love be exciting if I had always been so?  I can only assume not. And what use will wisdom have if I had not been foolish first. What is alcohol without sobriety or sex without abstinence, peace without war, righteousness without sin? Not to say one of these options were better or worse, or equal, but to say that, as in a song with which I have fallen in love over the last few days, the past is beautiful like the darkness between the fireflies. (Also, he kind of sings like Bob Dylan which is awesome).

So to bring this full circle, what is true without all truth? I see little use in being seen as doing what right, when we pretend it comes so easily, and without ever struggling or stumbling, or falling deep deep into it.