Come Ye Sinners has quite literally been in my head since I woke up this morning. I mean it’s stuck in there.
Fernando Ortega and his album Storm has been an album that I’ve listened to for years. It was the music that put me to sleep in the hotel in Colorado, condo in Branson, pool table in the Ozarks, and a few times in New Orleans. Of all the music that I’ve ingested over the years; this is the album that I hold most dear for sake of soothing, repentant, and relaxing. Not to mention the irony of it being ‘old people music’ versus my average day beats.
Today I shaved a full minute off of my mile time; I’m truly feeling it right now, but it was done more from stress than determination. The idea in my head is to exert the physical stress that I bare witness to mentally.
The moment is extremely tense; my legs, while still recovering, are still trying to shake from the environment that I’m currently in. I’d love to share more, but now isn’t the time. I just keep trying to recognize myself as the worthless sinner that I am, and accept that reality. Why worry about the world around you, and all the small details, when it’s a miracle in itself that you’re even able to breathe fresh air? Perhaps I’m the only one that has those thoughts at this time at night, but it is something that keeps me awake.
I suppose all I know is that currently I’m in my own storm, and the only tranquility I’m finding is recognizing that God is my only hope, my only strength, and my only finalizing goal of life.