Friday, July 18, 2014


How dare I?

It'll be all right. I'll think about that later.
There's more than this. I know it. He has more for me. He promised.
Stop it. Right now is calling.
Ignorance is bliss. Forgiveness is always there on the other side, anyway. Plus, you've already made mistakes. We'll just consider this whole thing a package deal.
At this point there is no ignorance. There is only willful, intentional disobedience, and to call it anything else wouldn't even be a respectable attempt to lie to myself.
You think too much. Just stop thinking. God would forgive a moment of forgetfulness, no?
Of course He would! But can't you see that's not the point!? More than forgiveness, I desire repentance! I want less reasons for Christ to have to forgive me! Shut your mouth and slay thyself.
Why do you stay? Why does even the name of Christ not keep your shadow from being cast over me? Why does your darkness continually loom over my head?
Because as much as you want me to leave, you've already proved that you want me to remain. Your will is weak and slowly cracking, and I do not need more than a small sliver to wedge myself inside.
This is God we're talking about here. Maker of every atom which dares not even spin without first asking His permission. Commander of every gale and all its raindrops, He tells them not only stop, but to begin raging. Every speck of light in thunder being told, "Here, and not there." Every sonic crack making people run from the sheer terror of simply experiencing its deafening might, and might I defy this God? This God Whose throne is surrounded by exponentially more terrifying iterations of these meek earthly detonations, and I dare willfully turn my back before the One Who gives my ankles the ability to twist? Somehow, this pathetically microscopic sack of water and carbon, when faced with the immediate, unquestioning obedience of a Creation that dwarfs its existence, shakes its fist at the heavens and says, "I deny You, Mountain-Mover." And yet, this ant dares defy Mt. Everest. What frame of rational thought exists to even conceptualize this kind of rebellion? I have decided - there is none.
This is You we're talking about here. And I've already done more than enough to break Your heart. Please don't leave me. But more than forgiveness, I ask for repentance. Would You let me walk away? You are God, and, right now, I'm not the one who gets to decide what's best for me, no matter how bad I want it. After all, of what worth is denying myself and following when it costs me little? Some, I admit. But, oh, the immeasurable reward for those who choose You when storms like these rage. Oh, Storm-Maker, I know not how to give You my will for longer than the few seconds ahead, but for these few moments, it is Yours. And when he shows his face again, as he will not long from now, may I be humbled by thunder once again.
How dare I?


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