"The room is full of silence - it's getting hard to breathe.
Take this gilded cage of pain, set me free,
Take this overcoat of shame, it never did belong to me.
I need to go outside, I need to leave the smoke,
I cannot go on living in the same sick joke,
It seems our lives have taken on a different kind of twist,
Now that you have given me the perfect gift.
For we have fallen from ourselves, to face the truth about ourselves....
So let's go out, into the rain again, just like we said we always would".
The Gift by Annie Lennox.
So here we are, the world of 2009, and the news is already filled with all the strife and woe that so marks the human condition.
The remedies, the policies, like resolutions (interesting that's what they're called at the UN), come and go , are made and broken, but we're still the same sin-sick race we've always been, in a hole, wanting the stars, but without the nature required to truly dance amongst them.
So much was lost, in the garden.
The only solution is a Saviour.
Christmas already seems old, but the God revealed in that moment is closer than our slight moments, our oh so brief pauses, when we truly 'catch' ourselves in our own reflections or the mirror of our thoughts - all to brief encounters which so tightly speak of our need - a inner scream for rescue.
The world, the ragged thing we term life, the identity of our soul within it, all need something greater than any scheme or sham we can devise.
In 2009, may inner eyes and inquiring minds, amidst all of earth's tribes and tongues, be turned to look to Jesus Christ, the great Lord and Redeemer of the lost.