I lost my journal. It was new so the loss was bittersweet. At least it didn't have much written in it. ugh. The prospect of this entry being public makes it pretty hard to write. what....do....I........DO!?
I feel guilty. I feel like I should work harder. I know that however hard I work is how fine. I know that God loves me just as I am. But I feel guilty about not working hard enough. I know better. My dad is a workaholic. I hated him for it. I hated him for shaming me for not working as hard as he did. Is there ever a time for a parent to shame their children?
I don't know what to say write now. I feel self-conscious. I am afraid what I say being judged. I want to be respected and honored as a great writer. I want people to say I have a great voice. The truth is that I know what I'm doing. I just hope what I say sounds good. I'm doing this for the wrong reasons. What greatness can I gain from the approval of my peers? They are no better than I. To ascend to the place of recognition I would become the wisest fool, the strongest cripple, the king of the damned.
What you just witnessed is one of many conversations that I have with myself nearly everyday. I fear the rejection of my peers, I am driven by the whips of scorn. I'll long for greatness, and then I'll collapse in the doorway. I hope that in being blatantly honest about my fear, my shame and hopelessness is courageous. I pray that it is the most courageous thing I can do. So I bring my insecurity to the forefront and declare it. Seems ironic that among the things I can accept with confidence is my own failure.
I am confident that I am a failure.
Good thing God uses me in this state. Good thing. It seems like we've reached a working understanding. I'll embrace the obvious fact that I'm powerless and He'll use me. phew.
I'm feeling like I shouldn't be trying. I believe surrender means you stop trying, for better or worse. You stop trying, period. I say this because in all my sinful years of life, I had the best intentions, or so I thought. I was fighting for noble causes, I was morally centered in my own thought. The fundamental nature of my thought is sinful and, unfortunately, while continued to nurture and prune the tree growing from that soil the fruit was rotten.
A few months have past since my "conversion" and I can say with relative honesty that I love God. Somewhere along the way from then to now I somehow forgot that fact the regardless of my motivation my deeds are rooted in sin. To try be good, to try and achieve righteousness is to succumb to sin. Somewhere in Romans it says, the law was only given that I would know my sinfulness. Note the pharisees.
This might be the strangest quandary I have ever found myself in. I yearn for God's love and the only way to experience it is to stop trying to get it. It's like saying the only way to get oxygen is to hold your breath. Do exactly what you feel would kill you. Stop trying. This surrender is sweet, but oh so terrifying.
There are days when it feels comfortable, when it feels safe and restful. Today hasn't yet been one of those days. Today it feels like I'm sitting in front of a lion who has promised not to eat me. He says, "Be still, and know that I am God". Every bone in my body says, "run". The fear things that keep me from running are a subtle fear of whatever other beasts are roaming around out there, and a hope that maybe the lion will protect me from them.
I should be doing...nope. I'm fine right now. I'm going to end on this note. I am truly okay right now. I feel that all I need to do is live here and now, and love my God, because He loves me. I don't need to work harder, I don't need to pray more, I don't need a thing. My joy is complete, right now.