Paper, Scissors, Stone.

Paper: meek and humble, less-of-me-and-more-of-Him, lying closer and closer to the ground while the steam roller train of His glory runs me over and I & my life are nothing more and He is everything.

Scissors: wrestling and fighting and tumbling and tearing and screaming until final submission. Not hearing and not being heard, just allowed to rage, then, subside and bear the scars of battle.

Stone: standing tough and firm, unmoving and unobliging. This is where you deliver on your promises. Where you show me you can be trusted.

What would you chose? I choose to be a stone: to stand here and yell till you hear, to remind you of your promises and your goodness. To show you the emptiness around and demand that you save me. Show me you can be trusted, show me your love.