Untethered Heart
I was reading 'Captivating' earlier tonight, which is basically 'Wild at Heart' for women. (Yes, yes, rag away.) While reading the section about accepting God's help, I was pierced by the writer's comment on how God was once to her too intimidating for real relationship, whereas Jesus 'liked me.' Although at first my thoughts turned, as they always do, to my disappointment in having little to no relationship with Christ(at least in my mind), a new thought-a retort-entered my mind.
"So what if He likes me?"
I was amazed and terrified by this new thought. Relentlessly, it marched on, a procession of doubt. What was God to me? Even considering His love, how did that help me? What does His love do for me, in the end? He is the path to salvation, certainly, but how do I go about loving Him? If I actually love Him but continue to second-guess, then how can I trust my feelings? And if can trust my feelings, then how does one create love? I suppose I should have listened to the quiet, guilty urge inside me to pick up my Bible, but I chose instead to sleep.
While I slept, I dreamed. The details are strange and unimportant, but what matters is what I was doing. In this dream, I was a loose cannon. On two occasions, someone said something to annoy me, and I reacted with violence. I was at fault in the scene I remember clearest, but stormed over to confront my victim, who backed away from me. He fell onto a staircase and hurt himself in doing so, but I simply stomped away, uncaring and still fuming. Later in the dream, I was in shambles. I was, I believe, writing down questions for God, such as "Why do I act this way?" and "What do I do?" Then, the questions disappeared, and I heard-or felt-a voice that told me to get up and do what I knew was right. So I stood, meek and feared at the same time, and returned to the person I had wronged. With clear, decisive movement, I got down on my hand and knees, bowed my head, and asked forgiveness for what I had done. I received it. At that moment, I awoke.
If you know my spiritual struggle, you know that direction is among the top ten of things I long for. Top five, actually. I often say how much I wish that God would simply tell me what he wanted me to do. It's not like I have other plans. I'm starting to think that maybe God likes subtlety. I've known that asking God to just tell me was a preposterous notion, and this perhaps drives it home. He wants me to seek Him, doesn't He? He doesn't want a drone to do His bidding, He wants a son. And in order to accept that, I have to come to terms with my shame, and finally accept that I, filthy to the core and underserving, am... saved.
If you'll indulge me a bit further, this dreams make me feel like a prophet of sorts. With the other dream I had a while ago about people from all of the world's religions singing together on a sinking stage, I'm wondering if He's chosen at least one way of telling me things.
I talk a lot about how much work I have to do on my Christian journey, but when it comes down to doing it, I'm scared. There is still the Kingdom of Will in my heart, and I don't look forward to tearing it down. And what will I become? Something holy, of course, but that doesn't help with the pain. *Sigh* Why do I always stipulate everything? I'm looking at the door of life while wondering how painful it is to wake the dead. Well, it's gonna hurt like hell, 'cause that's what I've gotta get rid of. This is the business of redeeming souls, sonny, not going on picnics! Now shake a leg! Though bring the basket, there may be some hungry people on the way...
Twilight out.
"So what if He likes me?"
I was amazed and terrified by this new thought. Relentlessly, it marched on, a procession of doubt. What was God to me? Even considering His love, how did that help me? What does His love do for me, in the end? He is the path to salvation, certainly, but how do I go about loving Him? If I actually love Him but continue to second-guess, then how can I trust my feelings? And if can trust my feelings, then how does one create love? I suppose I should have listened to the quiet, guilty urge inside me to pick up my Bible, but I chose instead to sleep.
While I slept, I dreamed. The details are strange and unimportant, but what matters is what I was doing. In this dream, I was a loose cannon. On two occasions, someone said something to annoy me, and I reacted with violence. I was at fault in the scene I remember clearest, but stormed over to confront my victim, who backed away from me. He fell onto a staircase and hurt himself in doing so, but I simply stomped away, uncaring and still fuming. Later in the dream, I was in shambles. I was, I believe, writing down questions for God, such as "Why do I act this way?" and "What do I do?" Then, the questions disappeared, and I heard-or felt-a voice that told me to get up and do what I knew was right. So I stood, meek and feared at the same time, and returned to the person I had wronged. With clear, decisive movement, I got down on my hand and knees, bowed my head, and asked forgiveness for what I had done. I received it. At that moment, I awoke.
If you know my spiritual struggle, you know that direction is among the top ten of things I long for. Top five, actually. I often say how much I wish that God would simply tell me what he wanted me to do. It's not like I have other plans. I'm starting to think that maybe God likes subtlety. I've known that asking God to just tell me was a preposterous notion, and this perhaps drives it home. He wants me to seek Him, doesn't He? He doesn't want a drone to do His bidding, He wants a son. And in order to accept that, I have to come to terms with my shame, and finally accept that I, filthy to the core and underserving, am... saved.
If you'll indulge me a bit further, this dreams make me feel like a prophet of sorts. With the other dream I had a while ago about people from all of the world's religions singing together on a sinking stage, I'm wondering if He's chosen at least one way of telling me things.
I talk a lot about how much work I have to do on my Christian journey, but when it comes down to doing it, I'm scared. There is still the Kingdom of Will in my heart, and I don't look forward to tearing it down. And what will I become? Something holy, of course, but that doesn't help with the pain. *Sigh* Why do I always stipulate everything? I'm looking at the door of life while wondering how painful it is to wake the dead. Well, it's gonna hurt like hell, 'cause that's what I've gotta get rid of. This is the business of redeeming souls, sonny, not going on picnics! Now shake a leg! Though bring the basket, there may be some hungry people on the way...
Twilight out.
posted by Aisyrn | 12:53 AM
2 Comments:
A thought struck me the other day, and coincidentally re-surfaced in response to this post.
"Twilight Bound" can imply you are heading towards a destination (or identity) or, as this implies, you could be chained to a place (or moniker.)
Sa'thought.
It is indeed a thought, and a good one at that. I had it myself when I first thought up the title. That pleasant plurality of meaning is one of the reasons I chose to call this place Twilight Bound.
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