Honest Questions (Written sometime in 2000)
My heart is dark and I feel unclean, but I'm too tired to stagger over and let You cleanse me. Can you come here, God? Can You bring me urgency again? My mind is a junkyard. Can you see past the mess and hold my sobbing form? What if I push you away, God? Will you still sit with me? Even if I cover my ears, will you still speak to me? What if I walk away, if I stalk into the darkness? Can I escape you, or will you hunt me? Will you pursue me like the first time, or have I tried your patience? I suppose that I do doubt you, though it's less of a lack of trust than a lack of information. There are so many voices, Lord, and I'm unsure which come from you. There are times that I don't desire you, and I know you feel that keenly, though it is an arrogant thought that I can make you feel rejection. As if I matter. As if I'm loved. But I know it, and so you see that I'm aware of your love, since I'm aware of your hurt. I have loved and hurt and screamed from the pain of rejection as well. But I have also ceased loving, and the rejection is hardly noticed now. Will you forever notice me? Will you continue to love if it means keeping the pain fresh and bright? The Psalmist said your love remains forever. Am I worth forever to you? Unfaithful as I am? You do not seem to guard your heart very well. Don't you get tired? Or is it enough after a day of endless giving to me that I will take a moment to look You in the face? That brings you joy? That pleases you? What about the holiness without which I can't please you? Is that look holy to you? You are so strange. Isn't it selfish if I look to you only for peace and assurance? Part of me can't help singing with Rich Mullins that 'everywhere I go I see you', but part of me doesn't want to get involved with you again, anticipating my own failure. I don't have what this takes. I am not made of courage or stamina or purity. But I am made of need, and I suppose that's all you're asking for.
this is the beginning · later-->
<-- Faith Dissolved