I feel like this is a topic that I circle a lot. The idea of God forcefully humbling you in order to let His spirit into your life. Because, although, he won't show himself to you physically, in order to preserve your free will, he sure will orchestrate your life circumstances to get you desperate enough to fall to your knees.
I worry about my resolve sometimes.
This is the first time in a long time that things have been going so well in my life. Last time I went back to church after years of inactivity, I fell to my knees in a moment of desperate pleading. I felt that validation from the Spirit that I expected, that warmth of an endorphin rush that signalled someone was listening and heard me.
Then again, when I was inactive from church before, I was still a believer at heart. This time is different. Not only do I strongly think there is nothing there but my "probably" thoughts are enraged that I might be manipulated and preyed upon by greater forces. Maybe I could get desperate enough to fall to my knees again but it'd only be a delusional moment where I raise my middle fingers up at the nothing that was cursing me for its pleasure.
i probably get too anxious about this. But the clarity I feel now, I am possessive of it. The old me is a stranger and I can't believe he fell for any of it. So I worry that I am him still, deep inside.
I worry about my resolve sometimes.
This is the first time in a long time that things have been going so well in my life. Last time I went back to church after years of inactivity, I fell to my knees in a moment of desperate pleading. I felt that validation from the Spirit that I expected, that warmth of an endorphin rush that signalled someone was listening and heard me.
Then again, when I was inactive from church before, I was still a believer at heart. This time is different. Not only do I strongly think there is nothing there but my "probably" thoughts are enraged that I might be manipulated and preyed upon by greater forces. Maybe I could get desperate enough to fall to my knees again but it'd only be a delusional moment where I raise my middle fingers up at the nothing that was cursing me for its pleasure.
i probably get too anxious about this. But the clarity I feel now, I am possessive of it. The old me is a stranger and I can't believe he fell for any of it. So I worry that I am him still, deep inside.
