I Have To Believe...

I have to believe, God, that you are who you claim to be. I have to believe that the book that you breathed into life through the guidence of the holy spirit, is just that. Your breathe of life. Father, I have to believe that you are bigger than anything that is in me, and that you truly desire for me to know your love. I have to believe that you want me to hear you call me daughter. I have to believe that you are right beside me, however painfully unaware I am. I have to believe that you are the same God now as you were in the garden, when you exiled your beloved ones. You had mercy on them. I have to believe that you are the same God for me that you were for David. He failed over and over again, but you ran to him at the outpouring of his heart, even in taking another man's wife. I have to believe that you are the same God now as you were when you told Abraham to take his son't life and give it to you, and still the same God that held back Abraham's hand when Issac was only moments from certain death. Despite my doubt, I have to believe that you are the same God who walked the earth and for a short time made yourself known as Messiah. You healed, you rebuked, you cast out evil, and you loved. I have to believe that you are the same God who brought his son to earth to pay my price. Truly, the same God who died there on the cross for me. I have to believe this and so much more, because if I don't than I am believing a lie. If I don't believe that your Word is truth, than I cannot believe that you are bigger than me. Indeed I can't believe that you are big enough to see me through anything, if you are a god who lies. I believe that you are an honest God, and that you would not lead your children astray. I have to believe that you are who you say you are, because if you are not, then all hope is lost. God, please forgive me for asking, but please come and make it known to me that you are the same God for me as you were for David, Abraham, Issac and the twelve. Make yourself evident to me.

messy...

My cardboard box isn't holding up so well.
Someone point me in the direction of the nearest roll of duct tape... and quickly

Ignorance is bliss

There are times that I wish I could go back to being completly clueless, instead of just mostly clueless. The only problem is, the less clueless I become, the more clueless I realize I am!! This can't be a good thing, but at the same time, I'm having a hard time convincing myself that this is bad. What to do? I'm not sure, but maybe today I'll attempt to embrace cluelessness.

...But I Should Let You See More

Consider this selective transparency, revisited. As previously mentioned, I recognize in myself the tendancy to be very non-disclosing about some things. Now, please don't hear me say that this is a bad thing. THis is actually a good thing, when approached in a healthy manner. There are things that some people don't need to know, but for myself, it has taken me to a point of disfunction. I believe that for myself (not the "for myself" part) not disclosing certain things with people who I should trust has created a whole other list of tendancies and disfunctions that I'm sure you really don't care to know. The long and the short of it is that I need to be more transparent... and that scares me.
You see, being open with people and letting them see you for who you really are puts you at risk. At least, I believe that it puts me at risk. Again, these percieved risks, when compiled together, make a long list of things not really worth sharing, for the sake of space, but they feel real, just the same. There is something, though, that is pulling me to give more. There is something in me that is longing to tell you. I just want to tell you what I really think, and what I really believe and what I really feel!! There is something in me that wants to strip off the attempts at seeming perfect, and try on the more comfortable, but much less flattering, "real" me.
I imagine it being something like a cardboard box full of jello. after a while the cardboard gets soggy and the jello spills out all over the kitchen table. I guess Jello was never meant to be stored in cardboard in the first place.
If I have to be jello, I want to be the green kind.