It feels like fractures of my soul are splintered all over this white space.
Leaking out of the blue glare.
Gasping for breath under each tap of my finger on the screen or keyboard.
Fading away through the façade.

Do I really find myself in quotes, in statuses, in pictures?
Or are those desperate attempts to say –
To prove –
I’m alive, I matter, care about me?

As I write, I’m already thinking –
Already imagining –
Already planning –
For who will read, who will like, what they will think of me.

Will they love me more?
Will they praise me in italics?
Will they ignore me?
Will they ridicule me?

It’s a battle to not crave
The affirmation of man
Or the sweet caress
Of approval for my words.

Which is why the Lenten fast comes
And He whispers –
“Come away with me, my love
“To discover something infinitely better.”

It’s time to turn away
From the passive leisure
Of mindless diversion
And meaningless flattery.

It’s time to force the soul
To face the true nature
Of its leeching desires
For attention and admiration.

It’s time to learn the silence
And sacrifice of forty days
In the wilderness
Giving up worldly delights.

It’s time to face silence
And the absence of vanity
And the intensity of sacrifice
And the filling of the soul.

This is how the heart quietly identifies
With the ultimate sacrifice of the Savior.
This is how the soul bows in humble remembrance
Of the cross, of the blood, of the cruel death.

The fight will be fought
Against cravings and desires.
And in the war, the skin of cheap attractions
Will fade away …

Revealing
The depth of the soul
Waiting to be found
In love by the Messiah.

His nail-scarred hands
Will always cup my heart
In the fullness of grace.
And I will come alive

More richly than ever before.