Man has three lives: one shared with the world, another known to the inner ring, and a third between himself and his maker. The first is the politically correct being, one that turns away censure, judgment and all things vile; the second is reserved for those we trust, whose lives intersect with ours by virtue of mutual interest and trust; while the third isn’t very agreeable. It’s our secrets hidden in the darkest part of our hearts. It’s our fantasies, our love, our shame, basal desires attracting retribution. Continue reading
I should start by saying thank you, shouldn’t I? For the things done of which I know of, and those I’m totally clueless about. So, thank you.
I am addressing this to you because there really isn’t anyone else I can tell this who will make a remarkable difference.
See, you gave me this really great personality. You know the kind that morphs and shifts all the time so it’s easier to relate with different kind of people? And a mind like a sponge. I can soak up a lot of information–sometimes I’m not even aware it’s happening, then everything comes tumbling out when they’re needed, and I’m like “Holy smokes! I know this?” But you know all these already, don’t you? You know everything.
You know the circumstances surrounding my birth. You know how a blissfully happy, ignorant childhood was ripped off. You know how hard I have had to struggle with knowing you, getting really angry with you for letting all those things happen–not just to me, but the people I love–and you know my anger was outright fueled by the fact that the lives of these people I cared about affected me in more ways than one. See? You made me like this, and I’m not sure what to do with it.
So I change personalities as much as Mercy Johnson changes characters in her movies. I’m afraid somewhere in the mix I lost total sight of who I really was. Now I’m more concerned who I am, and who I want to always be.
But that isn’t everything. I really need to know why you love me this much. Why? I feel totally unworthy, and yet I have this feeling you’ve been holding on so tight and yelling “I will not let you go!”
I think that’s great because I find myself slipping in more ways than one. I’m really not sure what’s happening, but I don’t like it one bit. Some of these people I have become in the past didn’t make me feel good about myself, or you either and I honestly want to please you. I guess you know that. Somehow I think maybe that’s why you have been holding on to me. You see the heart of man, while people look at physical appearance and actions. You understand the struggles–physical, mental, emotional–we face everyday, and you judge our actions based on that. I have slipped a hundred times already, and yet I feel you close by with your hand outstretched asking me to hold on. I haven’t.
Lord, I’m lost and in need of help. I mean the kind of help where you send a legion of Angels to minister. But most importantly, I need you. Just you. I have all these ‘depth'(like he calls it) that I can’t even begin to understand….don’t know what to do with it. But you know. Could you show me please? Will you take my hand and lead the way? Will you help me find me? The lines are blurred, and I see nothing.
Help me dear Lord, please?