Impatience Change

 

 

 

There’s a silent expectation that every problem of today needs to be fixed immediately. That everything from the past is wrong. That everything from the future is immoral. That everything is needed a label and definition. That awareness is used for shameless spotlight. That being a true victim is out shined by attention seekers. That it’s about me, instead about we. That my way is the only way. That everything that’s right is wrong. That everything that’s left is wrong. That change is bad. That change is our only hope. That change needs to happen now. That I’m automatically a victim because I’m female. That I am to blame because I’m male. That I’m a victim because I’m not white. That I’m a victim because I’m white. That I’m a victim because I’m religious or non religious. That I’m a victim because of my sexual preference or orientation. That these labels define me as a victim, because it’s what I’ve been taught to think. That my existence needs to be bold, present and valid. That my validity depends on your opinion of me. That my self worth is in the hands of others. That self respect is traded for self entitlement. That modesty is old fashioned. That confidence is promiscuous. That my opinion is the only valid one. That my opinion is fact.

There is a need for change.  There is real pain. There are real tears. There is a need for action. There is a need for help. There is a need of acceptance. There is a need of rejection. There is a need of failure. There is a need of success. There is a need to protest. There is a need of silence. There is a need for change.

Seven billion people live on one earth together, and every day each and everyone of us are bombarded with the selfish thoughts of others on why they’re right, and everyone who thinks differently is wrong, and everything that is wrong needs to change their ideas now. Change is needed, but it takes time. Healing can’t happen over night nor should it. Throwing a fit for change only makes the other side grow more resistant. It has come to the point where people only listen to respond, instead of listen to understand. Have you ever stopped and thought about something other than yourself and stepped into someone else’s shoes? Or are their shoes not your style?

 

By Elizabeth Trevino

Water: A fine line between life and death

Photo by Zac A Pagett

The waters resemble many things that play into the fears and triumphs in our hearts. It can cleanse your heart, cleans your skin, as purity is regained with your faith. It also suffocates and places pressure on the living, a fine line between life and death. Water is depicted in many faith’s to be a symbol of cleanliness. Water is also the fear many possess, what lies in the deepest is unknown and imaginative.

These thoughts flood my mind as I myself feel like I’m drowning in the world, even if air is within my lungs. My faith has washed away my eternal suffering, yet I still drown in life. If heartbreak, financial difficulties, family problems, sickness and other world problems are drowning my being, are the tears I shed in mourning reflective of my trust in God and his will? His salvation? My fears slammed in my heart, and my wants and desires feel lost.

So what then do I need? I’ve prayed for many things and only recently understood that there’s pain hidden within such and my eyes flood, as my heart begs for God’s mercy, his grace, his peace and love. He has showed and taught me so much, and I start to understand all my years of life, and the purpose of those lessons. But at this moment I drown and try to remind myself of the cleansing waters that saved me in a time when death was destined.

How calm is the pond, but how frightening is the ocean?
When you’re a grain of sand?

And for a moment I regain breath and peace is inherited.

 

By Elizabeth Trevino