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"We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God."

[Life's Soundtrack - Ep. 02: By Your Side by Tenth Avenue North]

Confessions

I.


I have no words for you. Syllables, yes; I have many of those, but my pen will put none of them together into words. This stream of nonsense is all I can offer.

II.

I think I met you today, right when I didn't want to. I was angry, you see, at another piece of clay - or so I thought until I looked up and found myself spitting in your face. I needed you so badly, longed to be found by you, but I hated you for finding me in my neediness.

I am ablaze with contradictions.

III.

After I spat in your face, I ran away down the road from my house. I thought I could rebel by going where I've been told it isn't safe to go alone. I even left my mobile at home, but I couldn't leave you.

Some rebellion.

IV.

I cried out to you and you gave me only stillness for an answer. So I cried out again, this time against you, and again there came only quiet. I wondered that you did not justify yourself. Then I realized it was I who stood accused.

Your mercy knew no limits, and I was at once ashamed and absolved.

V.

Once, I wrestled with knowing whether I truly desired you or just wore my desire for you to stave off the guilt of wanting Other Things more. Then you took my guilt away. Now I know the smallness of my Wantings could not have masked the depths of those guilt-rivers, much less taken them away.

VI.

I long to feel your hand leading me, to cling to it as solidly as ever I clung to Papa's. Yet even with that longing, I know that ever you hold me. Calvin comes and gives me hugs - lovely, warm little-brother hugs, and you are good but it isn't the same. Sometimes he mumbles funny little endearments to accompany the affectionate squeeze, but your Word is my lamp.

VII.

Is there ever a moment when at the root of all my fumblings there is not some trace of a desire to see your face? There are faces all around me - funny, beautiful things with speckled eyes and crooked smiles, and oh! you are so very good, but it isn't the same.

VIII.

Sometimes I think my heart will explode from the abundance of longing - and then I think, no, it will explode because it does not desire you enough. Perhaps when filling oneself with water from an inexhaustible well in answer to an undying thirst, these become the same.

IX.

Your presence is like the oxygen I breathe, running throughout every cell of my body and every part of the fabric of my existence. To know this is to wonder. And behind your ever-presence is your unquenchable, unfathomable, unconditional love, moving you like the tide moves an ocean.

To know this is both to wonder and to weep.

X.

And what am I? What questions do I have that will not drop away as less than dust when your face is revealed to me at last? What desires are in me that cannot be eternally quenched by you? What dissatisfaction can I find within me that does not spring from the knowledge that to be satisfied is to be near you? Where shall I flee from your presence, or be hidden from your Spirit? What fraction of a fraction of a second have I existed that was not filled with your presence, sustained by your mercy, bound together with your love?

XI.

Where is my expectation - my hope - my assurance - my comfort - my nourishment - my existence - if it is not to be found in you? Surely there is no cry of my soul that any but you might answer. Surely everything that I hunger for and seek after is you, and surely in none but you will I find satisfaction.

XII.

My life is yours, and yours to do with as you purpose. I trust in your unfailing love.
Read More 1 Comment | scribbled by Unknown edit post

1 Comment

  1. F.B. on October 9, 2009 at 9:46 PM

    Brings tears. Thanks--I think someone has more faith than I do, and it convicts me.

     


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