Going down swinging

It's been difficult coming back here.

For many reasons. Professional writing has, indeed, been detrimental to my writing for leisure. And also, the shortcomings of a writer not being able to put into words things she feels is a shame that I haven't yet overcome.

Amongst a list of others.

But I have come back, if only for a short and ineloquent while, for this:

1. I feel disqualified
I can't serve until my relationship is right with God. I can't serve because my relationship is not right with God.

2. I'm a misfit
There are those who are holy. Who have an inexplicable relationship with God. They hear Him, they see Him, they're going to foreign lands for Him, they're speaking from pulpits in His name. I don't fit in with them.

There are those who are young. Their understanding of the bible is shallow. Their faith is but a puddle. Not child-like, just lacking.

I feel excluded from the first group, I'm not edified by the second.

3. I don't care
I find it hard to believe that anyone cares. Because I don't. I want to pour my heart to someone and to not feel ashamed. To not feel as if I'm burdening them. To not feel like I'm a passing wind, to be caught once in a while but to be left for open waters. I want to be heard and understood in ways that I don't even expect, in ways that even I don't understand, let alone be able to articulate.

I know God is the best answer. But... where is God?

It's a big mess and yet it comes full circle. It confounds me and yet, in a sickening way, it makes complete sense.

The devil keeps telling me to give up. It's alluring, the call. I know it's the devil. He is the lion on the prowl, he is the dragon swishing his tail threateningly, smacking his lips in hungry anticipation. He tells me to ask God: what would You do to save me?

Why would You leave it to me to choose You? Especially when the choice now seems so hard.

Scripture comes to mind. The fail-save is kicking in. And yet what does it mean but words that've been drilled into my head over the years? Where is it found in my heart?

I read back what I've just typed and it sounds so childish. The answers resound in my head. I know what they sound like. But I'm going to let this sit. I'm going to let this out.

Dear reader, don't cast judgement on my God. He's good and real to many people I know – and He could be for you too. But this is between me and Him.