Saul called Paul, one of the seven ministers of the Gospel in the book of Acts, once wrote that he'd rather be with our Lord, than to be here amidst humanity's atrocities: nevertheless, Paul vowed to remain until God deemed his mission fulfilled. Even in 1974, when this piece was written, I understood how Paul felt. I so identify with Paul in many ways: in fact, in most.

To Have Been

©copyright 1974 Bonita M Quesinberry, R.C. 021774

Each day dawns anew with hope and promise. Each promise I ask not, fear not; yet, the thought of another day dawning is a mystery: one I would but wish to pass by, never glimpsing back, not curious of what I have passed. I know what God would have of me; still, I wish only to depart from that which He has created and man has torn asunder.

This life all too prone to seek; yet more, it is a life to prove worthiness of God: not just to have been, rather to remain in Yeshua's hands and His bidding. This I know to be as it should. Alas, I am tired, fatigued and weakened: weary of pain and hurt, somnolent of infinite solitude of mind and heart.

It is not what God has created but what man has destroyed that impairs me physically, inevitably destroying all desire to be but only to have been. Oh, to have been, no longer to be: set free of the Devil's chains, the Violent One's creed: set free of what no longer is God's creation beautiful but Satan's eternal hell.

I have found, taken, loved and lost, all at the mercy of another day passed; yet, all I found is no excuse to be, no reason to suffer Lucifer's agony and shame: no reason to be abused further— rather, to have been abused, to have been cast aside, to cease to exist; for exist is all life can offer. Ah, but to shed this garment is so much more than to have been.

Yes, in that can be found eternal peace and solitude: a quiet end to fear, rejection and self-made hell. Death, a word not to fear, for in its depth and meaning is only one word: escape. Escape from all the pain, sadness and heartbreak of life wherein most seek only that which The Destroyer offers: a life of which I cannot withstand.

Yet, what is life, except simply a struggle for power, wealth, success: to be one step ahead of the next person, willing to sacrifice all that is good and loving in order to be. I rather would to have been, to feel death's ebb tide: to sink and rise and flow within the sea's lulling waters— quiet, solitude, peace in its depth; the depth of to have been.

No longer to be but to have been a queen; no longer to be but to have been a slave; no longer to be but to have been someone's puppet; no longer to be but to have been rather a shadow passing only briefly through life— a life not worthy of all we each have to offer. But, who am I to say who is or is not worthy: for, perhaps, it is I who is unworthy. Still, 'tis better to have been than to be.