I want to be missed by someone, but no one that is too close to me. The thought of my son missing me makes me too sad to comprehend. I want people that I have spoken to only a few times to miss me. I think that means that I want people outside of my own circle to see the value in me. I know those close to me see my value to them, that's why they stay around. I want to know that I loved people that I didn't know had noticed.
I try to be kind to everyone. Obviously if you know me, you know I fail more than succeed. I do try though. I want to be someone different than what the average suggests. Again, I fail.
Lately I struggle. I am not a very good picture of who Jesus is right now. I'm not breaking apart for the right reasons. I heard a song a few hours ago that reminded me how much I wept for those that hurt and how much of myself I was willing to give. The song made me want to weep again, but the sentiment came face to face with the same anger that has kept most sincerity and innocence out of my actions for the last several years.
When I gave my life over to God, it wasn't because of some Bible story or some deep seeded belief in someone out there. I came to know God through laying my head on cold steel train tracks and challenging anything out there to stop me from destruction. Nothing about meeting God was pretty for me. I found God in the nastiest place I could find Him...in desperation. I went forward with a head full of steam and hurt a lot of people along the way trying to "save" them. I pushed them further away. I judged without knowing I had sat in judgement.
I worked harder than I had at anything. I opened the telephone book and slammed my finger to a name and sent them a letter, letting them know that if God could love me, He could love anyone. I still believe this more than anything else. If you saw me during this time, you did so looking at the Bible in my hand. When I met my wife, she noticed immediately the Bible in the back seat.
My best friend, who had adopted me as a brother died. It wasn't pretty. You can figure the rest out.
Since then, the anger. I had other Christians profoundly hurt me before, some whom I was trying to serve. This was different. I didn't feel betrayed by an imperfect person, but a perfect God.
How does one get mad at perfect God? I can't answer this. How does one so obviously blessed with beautiful people be so angry? I still have no answer.
I want to be the guy that burns with passion for God and for rescuing those that were like me, but I cannot seem to get this churning in my stomach to allow me to relax and let go. I cannot stop feeling like a fool who gave his life savings and ended up with hands full of sand. These feelings pass after a while when my logic and faith object, but they remain buried.
Pray for me. I've since now been too proud to ask.
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
