My Fence, My Fortress

A short while ago I thought that I was safely sitting on a fence, a neutral bystander who watched on from my comfortable perch.  Looking back I now see my fence for what it was, a small part of a veritable fortress built on a huge wealth of knowledge.  I appear to have been a pretty good builder for the towers on this bastion are oh so high.  

This may have been why my fall was a little on the hard side.  At the moment of truth, the moment when I realised that knowledge is a rather shaky foundation without feeling and without belief, I made a frantic scramble with tears streaming down my cheeks to the highest point I knew, desperate to defend my false strength.  As I climbed higher still I suddenly found myself in thin air and a very long way up indeed.  

I give thanks that I sought His strength at this most terrifying of moments, that He freely gave me enough support to land in this beautiful place intact.  Yes, it was still a hard fall and I landed a little concussed.  At first this led to a confused mist, panic even, and a desperate attempt to climb back on my fence.  This mist has lifted now and I truly realise where I am. My tower of knowledge is still there and, apart from a few loose tiles atop the highest tower, it is still intact for which I give thanks.  I now find I can explore this place without fear, and find it is so much easier to find what I require. There is a nice fence beside it, pretty but rather high, and at times I do want to climb back up and I think this will always be my temptation.  I give thanks now that I built it so high, and thanks too that I landed this side, for I think the consequences of landing on the other would have been very bad, and not just for myself. I am here now.  Calmly and quietly learning new things with an open heart, with compassion and feeling I have never known.  And how much there is to truly learn once you realise that learning and knowledge are two different things entirely.  Knowledge can be devoured, with a little practice, at an astonishing rate, learning takes time and patience.  Knowledge without feeling, compassion or understanding is also dangerous.  It is also rather scary, and I am already finding things that I wish I did not know, that I wish had never come to be.  

But whatever my fears I am in a place where I can deal with this now, where I can try and find ways to help others who may suffer consequences others do not want to see.  I can direct my prayers to those most in need whilst giving thanks for finally understanding what my knowledge means.