Why'd ya sing with me at all?
I've always been one who feels things deeply, so being numb is an uncomfortable process for me. I just can't help but think that feeling something would be better than feeling nothing. Like in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, when Big Daddy won't take the morphine because when you feel pain, at least you know you're alive. I'm not saying I want things to be painful, but I'd just like to know how I feel. Because if you don't know what you feel then you don't know what you need. If you feel pain - you need relief. If you feel sad, you need comfort. If you feel happy, you need time to stop. If you feel sorry, you need forgiveness. But when you're numb what do you need. Something. . . Anything, maybe?
Bearing one anothers burdens. Sometimes bearing others burdens is more difficult than bearing your own. Not because you feel anger toward the person you're helping, but because sometimes there's nothing that you can do. You can only say so much. You can only tell so many funny stories to make the fog lift, just to watch the veil drop and they're gone again. That's how she described it a fog, and you the bright light on the shore.
When the feeling does seep to the surface it hurts, so you push it back down because you were wrong, and numb is better than hurt.
I understood, this week, for the first time in my life that everything I do is God ordained. An intricate puzzle where each piece fits in at the right time. That should come as some reassurance, but I still wonder, after all this I still wonder. It's stupid. Plain stupidity. And that word isn't even harsh enough for it. It's . . . unfaith. It's selfish disbelief.
No temptation seize a man that he can't overcome, who am I to be fallen?
I knew it was coming earlier this week. The breaking. The refining. And all I can think of is Much Afraid and how the wheat couldn't be threshed forever. And then when its done its Grace and Glory. Or maybe I'm supposed to be Sorrow and Suffering to be turned to Joy and Peace. I don't feel strong and I don't feel that trusted. I am most probably a Much Afraid.
It's better off this way to be deaf, dumb, and lame than to be the way I am.
I don't think I have anything else to say.
Bearing one anothers burdens. Sometimes bearing others burdens is more difficult than bearing your own. Not because you feel anger toward the person you're helping, but because sometimes there's nothing that you can do. You can only say so much. You can only tell so many funny stories to make the fog lift, just to watch the veil drop and they're gone again. That's how she described it a fog, and you the bright light on the shore.
When the feeling does seep to the surface it hurts, so you push it back down because you were wrong, and numb is better than hurt.
I understood, this week, for the first time in my life that everything I do is God ordained. An intricate puzzle where each piece fits in at the right time. That should come as some reassurance, but I still wonder, after all this I still wonder. It's stupid. Plain stupidity. And that word isn't even harsh enough for it. It's . . . unfaith. It's selfish disbelief.
No temptation seize a man that he can't overcome, who am I to be fallen?
I knew it was coming earlier this week. The breaking. The refining. And all I can think of is Much Afraid and how the wheat couldn't be threshed forever. And then when its done its Grace and Glory. Or maybe I'm supposed to be Sorrow and Suffering to be turned to Joy and Peace. I don't feel strong and I don't feel that trusted. I am most probably a Much Afraid.
It's better off this way to be deaf, dumb, and lame than to be the way I am.
I don't think I have anything else to say.