Moments of Choice by CSS

Moments of Choice

These moments are ones I cherish. Without irony or 

Abuse of the word;

The ones where the house smells of apple 

And is vacuumed.

All of the children are home and I am in the 

Kitchen, cooking dinner, hearing: 

Laughter from outside, 

Tutoring math problems upstairs,

Baby giggles,

Peace. 

The separation between Depression and Light

Is only found in these tiny moments of 

Choice -- 

Decision --

The power of Agency, which seem so simple and 

Yet, 

Those dark weights blur the lines until I am only capable

To wonder:

Do I care about this; do I want to? 

I can't move, I can't decide, I can't wonder, I can't decide. I can't, I can't... I can't...

But here, today, in this kitchen, with the scent of apples, the sight of roses, the laughter of children, the dishes washed, the meal cooking, 

I want it. I chose it. 

I choose it. 

And the darkness lingers, but it has no power, because the 

Power of My Agency 

Has a fire-light, and it is burning brightly! 

Taller and stronger than those weights, 

Those fingers, 

Those arms of oppression and slavery. 

Each time I add fuel (medical, inspirational, Grace, 

And oh! How Great is His Grace!), I feel the 

Heat grow. 

One blade of grass here... another blade there... 

Blades of moments gathered as harvest from the 

Spirit of my soul -- dried out from pain, dried out from 

Desperate hope.

The drying hurts, 

But the drying fuels. 

This darkness, this pain, this exhausting weight is 

Losing

Because every time it dries me out, every time it pulls away my 

Choices, it doesn't realize -- 

Just as serpents in Gardens where arrogance cannot understand (and did 

They not realize?) --

Each dried blade brings me to 

Him

And fuels the very Fire that will set me 

Free. 

~Cheryl S. Savage 

(October 15, 2015)