We are tempted by the bitter cup of the world. It's poison served from a golden chalice, it is beautiful to see and pleasing to smell but it dries out the tongue and tastes of rot and corruption. And though we have drank of it before and have known it to leave one quenched, we seek after it again, somehow expecting something different this time around. It's a one of a kind concoction, it breaks your clay vessel within, cracking it, the water of life within us slips in between and runs dry. I feel cracked, in darkness. My repentance has been so weak lately, I often fall at the earliest sign of trouble and temptation. The first love type of grace has begun to depart and I'm left to my own devices to observe my wretched state, there is no righteousness in me, I want to be a disciple but I sneer at discipline. I speak of the world to come but I am conformed in this one's image so often. Penitence weighs upon my neck and shoulders, I feel the weight of my chains -- chains that Christ had broken but I once more placed upon my neck willingly. I give no credit to the adversary, I fail enough on my own accord, I have denied Jesus more than Peter, and betrayed more than Judas.
How do we gain any type of fortitude to speak of? Where does discipline come from, how can I attain it? The thrill is gone, and I'm left in a dark room with my idols.