Inside I am screaming out for help but I forgot to build a doorway when I built my protective walls so instead I'm huddled up like a lost child, wanting love and protection but wary of any who come near. I am whimpering in the darkness of my soul and feel trapped by my perception of how one should act in the world. When I'm in church, I want to run to the front, kneel on the steps and cry out but instead, I cry silently in my pew, too scared of what other people would say and think. I long to be like my 2 year old self, running around, laughing, crying, just being however I wanted to be without caring about all the old people tutting and harassing my mother about my inappropriate behavior for church. But Jesus said, let the little children come to me. As children we are truly ourselves, in school we learn about social status and cliques and conform to try to make ourselves fit in, we then spend the rest of our lives trying to find ourselves. It all seems a bit silly.
Some days it feels like the entire human race hates each other.
Sometimes I wish we all just weren't.
Do blades of grass or humming birds have these kinds of problems?
Do sparrows feel guilty when they eat the seeds from the farmers field that they did not sow?
Are dandelions always wondering where there children have gone and scour the garden for when one will come back?
Why am I me?
How does a river feel when an animal dies in it?
Why do people who have the most feel like they are missing the most?
Am I lost?
I am lost. But did I wonder off the path? or did I join the wrong one? Did I take the path less traveled and find it too overgrown to navigate? Or am I just ill equipped? Left the house in the wrong shoes and have had to take a rest stop to let my blisters heal. How long have I been traveling astray? Was I ever even walking with Jesus, or did I just kid myself? Too young, too naive, too innocent, did I actually believe I had it sussed?
When I was 9, I decided Jesus was cool. He was the puppet master, we were asked if we were ready to hand our strings over to God. I had never been more sure of anything. But I still couldn't share this with anyone other than God. Sharing is the most important thing. Why is it so difficult? Why do we live in a world of such ungrace that we find it shocking and terrifying to talk to someone and share Jesus's love first off?
I just dinne get it.
I say that a lot. And it's true. I do not 'get' most things in life. All the good things seem too controversial and bad things seem unfathomable.
What would the world look like if our main identity in life was not student, banker, homeless, orphaned, working class, emo, ned, unpopular... but we could simply say 'I am the one Jesus loves'. What would we feel if we could truly believe this with all our hearts. I love Jesus, but I cannot believe that he still loves me. I just turn away from grace because it seems simply too good to be true. I am scared I guess. Scared it will all just be snatched away again. It's too scarey to be happy because being sad is so much worse. At least when you're sad everything levels. That's not even true. But it's something like that.
My migrane is starting to eat at me again so I think I better put the bright light away and get back to being curled up in a darken room.
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