But what am I supposed to write about? Is this for me, for others, or for God? Is it an autobiography? My memoirs? A diary? A letter to God? Am I writing a story? Aaaahhhh! C'mon, God. Give me some direction! I can't expect you to communicate with me if I don't slow down to listen. I fill my life with all kinds of busyness and distraction, always knowing that you've been begging me to "Come steal away" with you. What am I afraid of? You reminded not so long ago that you are not angry with and judging me harshly. You are my sweet, sweet, father who wants me to call him Daddy.
So again, what am I afraid I'm going to hear? That you're calling me to something big. That's exactly what it is. I'm afraid of becoming overwhelmed by you. I will be overcome with sorrow for all the ways I've failed you, for being inadequate, for being loved when I'm so undeserving. Why should that frighten me so? Wouldn't that be a good thing? And yet you told me that your voice would be sweet and soft. That's how I'd recognize it was you, my Abba.
I don't want to feel the anguish, and your overwhelming love will highlight all of the bitter, gut-wrenching sorrow and loss. How could it not? Such a contrast is impossible to comprehend. Having been forcibly immersed in the forces of darkness and coming face to face with the Origin of Light would result in a collision of an enormous magnitude within my psyche. I was your beautiful creation until, just like a crystal vase thrown at a wall, my soul was shattered into a thousand tiny fragments. What has gone unremembered and locked away for safekeeping looms as an insurmountable mountain. A whole other life was lived outside of my awareness. What took place in that life? What will I see when I peer into the blackness?
Will I see you???? That's my big question for some reason. Were you there? Are you there? In the darkness? In my head I know you were because you are everywhere. But I need to see that you were there, weeping for what I had to endure. Don't just come with me or lead me behind the curtain. Please be there already. I need to know that you knew me all the way back then. I can't face it if you aren't there. I know you love me now. Show me that you loved me then. You exist in all of time and eternity? That means that you are there, right now, with each and every "me" that is stuck back there in the horror. Right?
A new thought that requires mastication. If I/we can accept on faith, now, that you were with us back then, we might actually be able to venture into the dark places. It's not something we can rush into, however. This faith/trust thing sucks in a big way. You're asking us to do something that goes against our instincts. My personal experiences with you thus far lend credence to the claim that you were there already with us. Those inside who doubt and don't know you must be proselytized by those who do.
