yearn.

october 30, 2010. waffle house on northside drive. 5:17 AM

there is a lady, a lady so addicted to a lustful poison. i sit alone on a cold, hard bench watching her from the corner of my eye. the lady is pacing around the restaurant. the wrinkles on her face, folded there by distress, uncertainty, pain. she is on a pursuit for something. her eyes are frantically searching for her source of comfort. her voice reaches my ears, "do you smoke? can i bum a cigarette?" that was it: nicotine. that was her treasure, what she cherished above all else--a dingy, white cancer stick. she would compromise her dignity to have that precious, alluring venom running through her veins. she wanted a cigarette so badly; it was a necessity. the desperation of her voice hit me like an unforeseen force. why don't i have this pressing urgency to have God's presence overwhelming and enveloping my soul, running through my very own veins? i want to yearn for Him, to be desperately thirsty for Him each and every day. i watch someone hand her a cigarette. she darts outside to light up. her nerves calmed down by the first inhale of the toxic fumes, and i am deeply saddened, knowing that she is only temporarily satiated and unaware of something greater out there that would give her permanent satisfaction.