It Will All Pass

"Of this life of comfort, of materialism, of lies. . .it'll be destroyed.  These things in which we so confidently put our faith and trust, will go away.  We think money is the key to happiness and all we want is more, more, more.  When we get these things it's happiness for a moment, but then it's gone, and we're on to a brand new pursuit.

Our society has come to a point where sex is completely normal and expected between any people dating and even casually accepted among friends and persons of the same sex.  These powerful lies and spirits of immorality have entangled us.  We are deceived.  Primary schoolers are having sex. Children are exposed to vile things from a young age. Mommies and daddies don't love each other. Some unwanted children are being abandoned while others are killed before they're even born.

The pull is so great.  It rips at my heart and makes me feel cold inside.

I need your hope.  I need your future.  I need your understanding.  I need your love.  I need you.

I'm thankful that I don't belong here, that I don't have to call this place my home.  When we look up, all we see are our towers of complacency that we have so skillfully built.  We see birds that we think evolved into existence.  We see clouds that will one day bring a storm.

How soon, Lord?  How soon?  I’m certainly not ready.

I'm not ready because I, too, am deceived.  I feel as if I'm living in a spiritual stupor, constantly drugged with the pipelines clogged.  It's like a weight on my shoulders, a suffocating pillow in my face. . .and I grab that pillow and lay down and go to sleep.

I sleep and I forget.  I forget all the things all you've called me to.  I'm watching these people walk by. . .these lost people.  They echo only the words of their unfit heroes and wear only the clothes presented to them by the material industry.  They curse and make perverse jokes and use Your name in vain, and they don't even know what they're doing.

They're completely clueless.  No one's ever told them.  No one's ever showed them how much you love them.  I feel I must, but I don't.  I don't know how.  I just make such excuses and never do the things to which you've called me.  I'm walking through a spiritual world of peanut butter with that damn pillow in my face.

We eat things that kill us.  We do things that kill us.  Sometimes we purposely kill ourselves with a gun or a rope or a bridge or some other creative devil.  That breaks Your heart.  I know it does.  It breaks mine too.  I just need You.  I guess I'm asking too much.  I'm asking you to shove me out into the playing field, because I feel unprepared to go.  I'm afraid and I'm shy.  I'm a wimp, and I disobey.

If only I were sure of what You wanted me to do, I would do it fervently.  If I heard Your voice, I would follow.  If only I could hear You speak, I would do whatever you ask.

I say that, but is it true?  I feel kind of like Kierkegaard.  I gave up my love and underwent heartache, for what?  I don't know.  I don't know what for.  I thought you wanted me to, but now I'm a writhing lonely mess that's been waiting to hear from You for a long time.  I know I make up stuff that I think You've said in my head, and it's frustrating. . .because I never know.  I used to have a discerning spirit.  What happened to that?  I listen for your voice.  I listen sometimes and focus and everything.

But I hear silence.  And I can't help but think that you're speaking and I'm not listening, with the whispers of your voice drowned out by the screaming lies of the world and the deceit of my own flesh and mind.

I need a new mind.  I need lots of things.  I'm such an unworthy person to be called Your child.  I read about these men (and women) in the Bible who would implore You and say "I have done right in the eyes of the Lord."  I've never been able to say that, and I'm always laden with guilt.  Whenever I seek to clear that guilt by going to someone and confessing my wrong, I feel even worse. . .I even feel as if I never should have told them.  I don't feel relief but regret that I confessed.  Why is that?  Am I more willing to sin against you and continue sinning and be cut off from you than to undergo the earthly consequences for my wrongdoing?  I need a contrite heart.  I need to let my brain shut up so I can hear You.  You've blessed me with so much, and what have I done?  I've sat here on my bum mumbling little clues or hints to folks hoping they'll pick up on it and suddenly decide that they need You.

It's tough when people think they don't need You.  It really is."

From June 18, 2009, but it pretty much describes how I feel right now.