I walked among the “beautiful”.  Bodies displayed in all their filthy radiance.  Their shame covered by the tiniest of rags.  As fully attractive to the eye of lust as they could muster, women danced to entice.  I saw and heard things which would have brought the fire of Sodom in ages past.  Yet they call it normal.

Where is the familiar isolation I have come to thrive within?  Where is my private altar of prayer and consideration of what is Holy?  It is far away.  I am caused to pray incognito.  I am forced to lower my eyes to the floor or the heavens above.  Yet I must endure the onslaught of sin present before me.  I am caught in a whirlwind of man’s rebellion gone wild.  Propriety?  Where is propriety?  Where is restraint?  Where is consideration of what we are doing?  Where are thoughts of the Holy Angels?  They are far from this place.

He is faithful.  He alone gives endurance.  He was tested as are we, yet remains faithful to His Holy Father.  He causes endurance by loving us to understanding.  He reminds.  He guides, and we overcome.

I return to the familiar with little filth clinging.  Yet there is filth upon me.  “Forgive me, O God!  I have seen and perceived the things men do before Your Holy eyes.  Yet Your love embraces my yearning heart.”

To the work.  Let my soul propel the flesh into the things more pleasing.  I will search and listen with more ease now.  For our God and Lord Jesus is faithful.

By His Grace.

It seems simply acceptable.  What they call freedom is made of steel reinforced concrete.  Bars of heat-treated platinum encase their hearts.  And they perceive no evil.

Men parade their pride.  Even their humility is a prison.  Acceptable is tempered with human understanding.  Aspirations reach only the top hair on their head.  And their feet plod in the mud of sins up to their knees.

Women dress to entice.  Yet they consider their attire necessary.  Human beauty is the standard.  But it is only a mask to hide a sickly soul.

Where is freedom?  It remains in Heaven.  Who aspires to be free?  Who yearns to shed this cell of acceptable human behavior?  Let them show their desire.  Let them stand out among the crowd of prisoners,

If we must dress for social occasion, let us dress with our fellow-men and women in mind.  If we must speak, let it be as if before the Holy Throne of God.

The bars can be swung wide open.  For many, the bars stand away from latching.   Yet they remain inside.  Who is free?  Who can count moments in the Sun?  Yet who counts the darkness of that cell as daylight?