Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said, goodbye.
Remember me, once in a while -please promise me, you'll try.
When you find that, once again, you long
to take your heart back and be free -
if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me ...
We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea -
but if you can still remember, stop and think of me ...
Think of all the things we've shared and seen -
don't think about the things which might have been ...
Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned.
Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.
Recall those days, look back on all those times,
think of the things we'll never do - there will
never be a day, when I won't think of you ...
Can it be?
Can it be Christine?
What a change! You're really not a bit
the gawkish girl that once you were ...
She may not remember
me, but I remember her ...
We never said our love was evergreen,
or as unchanging as the sea -
but please promise me that sometimes
you will think ah-ah-ah-ah-aaah-of me!
__
sometimes i wish my life was like Christines. Nice and simple, and uncomplicated. Where people DO mean what they say and say what they mean to do. where my heart stops breaking, because the same people dont keep teling me that i dont matter, and dont keep forgetting me.
Where being with me is something important, not another chore to do,
where spending time with me is a joy, not a burdan
where i am loved and cherished in my times of sorrow, and not reprimended for it
where i can be free to laugh and cry and be human, in the midst of your robotic natiure
In the end, it is a question of the heart. Where is YOUR heart? Who do you trust with it? What do you dare to place inside of it, to house in your house of crystal?
someone, once told me, "a heart is a fragile thing. that's why we protect them so vigorously, give them away so rarely, and why it means so much more than we do. Some hearts are more fragile than others. Purer, somehow, like crystal in a world of glass, even the way they shatter is beautiful."
some people are just so scared to even look at their own heart, they hide it away in some back closet, hoping that if they themselves dont even touch it, then perhaps their heart will never break. but in hiding their hearts, they go through life, day in and day out...just short of being robotic and mechanical.
in the book "the ransomed heart" by john eldredge, he talks about the story of elisha in the old testiment. the last story we have recorded of elish is about king jehoash. Elisha was dying, and isreal was in trouble. in the recordings of 2 kings 13:18-20, elisha gave king johoash some arros and told him to strike the ground. the king did as he was told...but only for 3 times. and elisha got mad at him, and then died.
to this, john eldredge says, " What a strange story! why was the old prophet so angry? because the king was nonchalant; he was passionless, indifferent. He gave the ground a whack or two. his heart wasnt in it. God says, in effect, 'if that is how little you csre about the future of your people, then that is all the help you will get.' in other words, if your hearts not in it, well then, neither is mine. you cant lead a country, let alone flourish in a marriage, with an attitude like that. to abondon desire is to say, 'i dont really n eed you; i dont really want you. but i will live with you because, well, im supposed to.' it is a grotesque corruption of what was meant to be a beautiful dance between desire and devotion" (pg. 55)
to all of my dears who read this, and to my dearest. the question i have for you today is WHERE is your heart? are you settling for simple function and survival? or are you gonna step it up and tell the dark forces, you want to LIVE? are you gonna shut up, sit down and believe in the lies? or are you goona stand up and tell the lies to shut up, sit down and believe in the truth?
this choice is a choice you need to make every day. to choose life, or to choose the death of the heart. i wish i could make this chocie for you each and every day, dearest. but it is you who must make this choice. i can only stand silently in the wings of the production of your life, to cheer you on, and to pray for you, and help pick you up when you stumble...but only if you let me.
the question isnt am i here..the question is, are you willing to be here too?
