Interesting. Somehow my last post missed publication. Oh well, I just pretty much have more of the same to say today.
I am so tired of being alone. I am about ready to quit. I know that there are people who would regard me as someone who they could settle down with, but I just can't "settle" for them. I meet these ladies periodically that show me what it is that I seek. That I am not looking to find someone who doesn't exist, but they are already married and have kids.
And kids- I believe that I want to be blessed by offspring. It's such a blessing in the lives of others that I know. I think that I want to experience kids as well. Shouldn't I have that choice? Have I messed up that opportunity as well as others? I am no where near where I hoped to be by this time. I never thought to be wealthy by the worlds' standards, but by MY standards I had hopes.
What is this curse that hinders me? Will it gain strength from the promised letter from "home" or will I be exposed as the man that I have always hoped that I'd be?
I still hear that haunting phrase that "even the very elect will be deceived if it's possible" and question all my choices again. My soul seems to deflate through my heart as I contemplate this whole thing, this eventual turn of events.
I am forced to ask "God, just what is the purpose of these tricks that you seem to play on me? The promises that I want so to believe for but never quite see? The miracles that You seem to do so readily for others and yet I cannot seem to lay hold of?
Was I dreaming when I heard you say to believe for a new car? Was I dreaming when your apostle laid his hand on my head and prayed for my hair to return and not just with the original thickness but the original color? Was it fantasy when your prophetess told me that my youth would be restored? Did the dream confirming the nearness and identity of my beloved spring from my own feeble mind? I really can't take much more of this. I am ready to come home and bathe in your goodness and peace.
I look in my bag and all my mustard seeds are impotent, spent, cracked or consumed by mold and I find none to spend. I feel as inconsequential as dust waiting for rain.
God help me.
Jesus help me.
Spirit help me.
Saturday, November 30, 2002
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