You are not a wild animal needing to be locked up.
You are not a lock,
but if you were, you own all the keys
and open yourself.
You are not a book, a map, or a puzzle.
Not something pieced together and predetermined
there are no manuals illuminating
Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings that puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.
More often than not, we want him to have fairy wings and spread fairy dust and shine like a precious little star, dispensing nothing but good times on everyone, like some kind of hybrid of Tinker Bell and Aladdin’s Genie. But the God of the Bible, this God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, is a pillar of fire and a column of smoke.
He loves it when we, gripped with doubt and fear that He will not be enough, turn the gaze of our souls to Him in hope. He loves to prove Himself faithful and more than enough to satisfy our hungry souls. When we do turn to Him, our souls rest and we are saved. Again. And again.
When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God’s grace means…My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it.
Twenty years from now you are going to look back at this and wonder how it was possible to be so lonely, so withdrawn into yourself like the shriveled husk a dead beetle leaves behind when its soul departs. You’ll wonder how you never noticed, or, for that matter, cared about the things that were…
when an artist wants to show you their art
or a writer wants you to read what they’ve written
it’s quite often an expression of trust
because a poem or a story or a painting are often things that come from the heart
little pieces of the artists themselves
and if they’re willing to share it with you
you should appreciate it