03/07/11 I might as well be a leper

I must hang my head for shame overwhelms me. 

I have gone so far astray. 

It did not begin with this end in mind.  I had no idea that these small choices, so easily made would lead me here.

I won’t place blame elsewhere, though if hidden in a convent, would I have come to this place?

Surly as I know myself, I’d have found a way.  Hell bent, as they say, on having my own way.  No one will tell me how to do it. 

Famous last words.

Yes I know full well that the stubborn rebellion in my heart would have led me here regardless of circumstances.

It was not my intent.

Underneath the strength of my will lies a timid hurting child.

Someone that is too afraid to even cry out for help.

Knowing that no one would answer.

And tears do no good but to give fuel to the self pity that would show my weakness.

Strength is the answer.

Throwing off any appearance of concern, even to the point of embracing the evil.

Yes.

And no.

And never measuring up to any standard set, I give myself over to it.

But there is no satisfaction, the promise of fulfillment is a lie.  An illusion and torment.

What choice did I have.

So young.

So vulnerable.

I used to sing.

I used to look for ladybugs and lizards in the grass.

I used to be innocent.

But there is an advantage.

I am also very intelligent and intuitive.

I see what they do not think I see.

And I learn how to use it.

I will not be used up for naught.

Let me have my pretty things – candies and toys and attention.

I will smile and act so gay.

They will never know the pain and hurting child I am.

I will wear this mask.

The veil is thin and I am losing the battle of trying to live this illusion.

Childhood has gone by and I have lost so much.

I cannot allow them to win.

I must never show fear or need.

I cannot measure up, but I cannot let them win.

I am angry.

I am hurt.

I am alone.

Aloneness overwhelms me, yet I will not let it show.

I sing my songs, laugh and run with friends.

We count the stars and dream of life perfected.

But I do not let them in.

No one.

No.

Not one.

Oh, sure I tell my tale, and use it for my purposes.

But the core is protected, bolted in – cemented walls encase it.

This is the monster that lives deep within.

The hurt child that rules my life.

I cannot reach her.

She is a ghost.

She is all powerful.

So whatever I desire I obtain.

No limits.

Nothing withheld.

There is so much strength built on the walls of pain.

It believes it is protection.  But it is a prison.

And life goes by.

And what I sought as a dream comes true, but no fulfillment there.

No happily ever after for me.

I am not good enough.

And deep down I always knew it.

I have been wicked from the start.

I have used and abused.

I have killed and maimed.

I have hated.

Lies to cover wrongs.

Nothing can reach me.

I dare not even try.

Salvation comes in moments of clarity.

Tender calling draws me.

And though I yield to it, I know the depths of who I am cannot be given.

I give my heart, but withhold the ugly rotting pain that lives within.

I cannot make myself believe that it can be cured.

This monster that is me.

And my heart is broken for longing to connect.

I see so clearly this great love that reaches for me.

And no greater yearning have I ever felt.

But

I believe

And yet I do not believe, for me, it simply cannot be true.

I am unworthy.

Nothing in my experience has given me any reason to believe that I could be worthy.

Everything has said that I cannot.

And I stand at the gate looking longingly in at the one thing my entire being knows would conquer all my pain.

But fear and doubt keep me from walking through.

And the thing that has been ruling me sits rotting in it’s cell.

Laughing at the hope I would embrace.

Is this thing bigger than Him?

No.

But it is bigger than me.

And all the strength of my will is just a vapor blown away leaving me like a pile of mush.

Oh God.  Oh God.

Could you love even me?

Could you – I cannot even say it.

I dare not dream it.

I have no right to even say Your name.

But I love you.

As much as a heart of filth is able.

As much as a broken spirit is willing.

As much as a twisted tormented mind can fathom.

I do not doubt Your love, but I doubt it is for me.

On lighter days I see that it could be.

And yet this seed is still within me. 

I cannot let it out.

I cannot rid myself of it.

And I’m useless in my sorry attempts to earn Your love.

All the tools of seduction, of manipulation, of power are incapable of bringing You to me.

Filthy and useless and absurd.

Years have gone by

I’ve taken my hatred out on my own body

I’ve given myself to the tasks of life

But even with my children I am not completely invested

They too will leave me

As they have

And once again I am alone to ponder all of this.

It is never quite out of my mind, or hearing

Oh sure I get distracted with things

With people

But there is no escape.

I am stuck with me.

And sometimes I believe the lies

And sometimes I believe Him

Divided

Angry

Willing to do and be anything necessary to be loved

What ever it takes

Just like the beginning

And the edges of my life begin to fray

Petticoats start showing

Dust gathers

Papers pile up

Weeds take over

I am helpless to remove them

Age sneaks up on me and catches me by surprise

So much so that I rebel and scurry in my efforts to forestall it

Deep down I know it is inevitable

And my efforts seem so silly

So useless

I have no power any more

All the devices of my tricks and ploys have been exhausted

I am left withered and used up

I am the picture and fulfillment of my lust and greed

All that I have done is plainly visible

The beauty has faded

The strength is gone

And still I am alone

Is He still there?

I wonder

I wonder

What use would such as I be to such as Him?

They say it is when a person comes to the end of themselves that He is strong.

That my weakness is what He is able to use.

It makes no sense.

But I am willing

The bolts have been tightened for so long that they are stripped and broken.

And even if there were a way to get inside, I do not know if I can have it.

I do not know if it is possible

She hides

She rules with tantrums and fits of rage

She is afraid

She is in pain

She is lost and alone

She wants to be loved.

I hate this monster in my heart.

I have a vivid memory which was the first time the thought crystallized in my mind regarding the ‘alone’ness of the human condition. 

It was a Star Trek episode [I know, God will use anything, huh!]

There was this alien that inhabited a human body in order to communicate to the crew, and the immediate reaction that the alien had upon habitation, was deep sorrow discomfort pain, and sadness – it was saying how alone it was to be in a human body apart from a united species. 

It sent my mind on a journey that has lasted years, I’ve ruminated over it, mulled it over, and examined it critically from every aspect, usually subconsciously. 

Anyway it struck me as truth. We are alone inside our bodies, unconnected in any real sense.  The only way to connect to others is through our senses physically, intellect, emotions.. all of which are woefully We, alone, are inadequate to meet that deep desire to belong which resides somewhere between our DNA and our unseen spirits.

Moving along in life is confusing for us because we do not realize that everyone else shares in this.  We not only feel alone within, but we feel alone without, not ever able to acknowledge a shared experience most of the time, because everyone wears a mask

Few own up to this. 

Most are not even aware that it is what it is. 

Seems that we are loath to admit this need, and so we hide, ignore, bury, run away from, deny, mask, etc. etc. etc.

BUT GOD

What ever His criteria is, so far beyond me, what ever His purpose, I do not know, and I’m sure I won’t this side of heaven.

However He is in the connection business.

He wants us to connect with Him AND with each other. 

There are few chosen to connect.

And all I know is that I am hands down unworthy. 

All I know is that without Him I am nothing, and that I must connect = to Him and to others.

The central focus of life: TO CONNECT – TO KNOW, IS TO LOVE. 

LOVE IS NOT WHAT WE THINK IT IS.

Marriage is the closest demonstration to this connection, a Holy union.

And like tumblers in a lock, the pieces fall into place.

I do not doubt His love, but I will always doubt my worthiness.

The wonder of it beyond imagination, indescribable. 

No feeling, sense, thought or dream can compare to the KNOWING that I belong to Him

And the focus is not on my gratitude, but on His person, His being, He is that He is.

HOLY HOLY HOLY IS THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY

ALL PRAISE TO HIM WHO IS AND WAS AND EVER SHALL BE

So in spite of the apparent self hatred, degradation, loathing, and trashing, I am good. 

There are times one must open the basement doors and peep in.

Scary as it is, it brings back the truth of it all. 

I am nothing and He is everything.

It is Holy ground.

What He has done for me is too far for my ability to discern appropriately.

But I know that I am His.

And I know He will never let me go.

And it’s just another exercise in telling the story

It brushes the surface, draws out emotions finally when reviewed with Tracy.

But it’s not getting to it.

It is not healing, it’s not fixing the problem

Tracy asked if I am supposed to fix it?  That question never occurred to me.

An assumption of mine, ala life’s journey, of course I have to do it, there’s no one else TO do it.. 

I either have to figure it out myself or find an expert and pay them to do it.

Kind of short on experts and cash atm.

But it never occurred to me that I was not supposed to fix me.

Thanks Tracy.  I needed that.

I have no earthly idea how – but I guess that’s not my business either.

Perhaps I just need to pray for the patience to last long enough for Jesus to do the work in me.