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>Transcript of Lithurgy's speech at Murder of Crows
Topic: New Heart
>>In truth, I have remained in absence of the mind. Thinking greatly to the point that my mind has wandered into the valley of death, the circumstances of the present age weighing heavily on me. Anything innocent in sight I could not look at without immediately being pressed with images of such innocence abused. I felt an overwhelming sorrow as if an entity did not want me to enjoy God's Creation, but remain drowning in how imperfect that Creation is. Nothing is innocent and pure anymore, only sickening malformed mannequins posing for personal gain before we all dry up into dust. Even Biblical imagery of the Shepherd, or of the Cross, was churned into my head as if throwing a painting in a shredder to be misshapen.
I spent in constant hour praying to regain that innocent eye, that I could see the smile of a child and instantly think up of another chapter of adventure to write down and publish in order to nurture that childhood innocence, but for weeks I could only think of how the world has invented new ways of evil and I fell ill and trapped within my own head at how helpless I was in this mess of a Creation.
And then, after much prayer, the weight lifted as the Holy Spirit saw fit to remind me that such was the evidence that I still had that innocence, that I was still a child of Christ. Because I had a desire to fight hard to keep my innocence, and like a child, I wept at the sight of something deep down I knew was not to be. Perhaps, this was a furnace that I had to endure, for in the beginning of this year on New Years Eve, only a few minutes before midnight, I stood outside and prayed that I would fight for innocence. My poems, my books, my films, all of my arts that were gifts from God, were to restore innocence. And I recalled a voice warning me of what was to come, that it would invite pain, but that I better have meant it when I first knelt before Christ's throne and submitted my will to the Head Shepherd. That when I spoke of being anointed with the Blood, that I meant it.
Today, after weeks of spiritual warfare, I have learned and endured and come forth with an understanding of the children's view. To have so many things come at you, overwhelming, attempting to rob you and hurl you over a cliff, the Presence of Christ, surely, is a real comfort. For it felt as if I was reaching in a fog and had something ethereal to hold onto, though I could not physically grab it, I knew a barrier was there, a safeguard around falling off the edge of the world. This of course, as opposed to reaching out into the wind, internally knowing nothing is there, no eye watching you except your own screams. The Hell that awaits first in the heart and then after death for the unrepentant became real.
This is the trouble that faces the youth and the adult alike. It is why the imagery we deal in, the gothic atmosphere, is of reverence. It is acknowledgement of the error of mankind, but the beauty of the Blood. I will continue to remain in the cove amidst the rocky cliffs, the thorns of the road bearing down the flesh, but never casting out the strength of the renewed spirit purified in Blood.
"I will make your forehead like the hardest stone, harder than flint. Do not be afraid of them or terrified by them, though they are a rebellious people." Ezekiel 3:9
“’Then I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood, and as you lay there in your blood I said to you, “Live!” Ezekiel 16:6
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