This past Wednesday, we went to our church's monthly mid-week service, appropriately called "First Wednesday". This was my one-sided dialogue with God.
"I've lost the sense of experience that should accompany worship. As I write, I listen to one gentleman behind me praising spontaneously; beside me one of the pastors falls to his knees, arms raised in abject worship, tears flowing freely. I don't have that. I know what You've done, I know that You've shown us the Way, The Way of peace and love. But, I don't know. I guess maybe I'm bitter...But I don't really think it's that. I truly think that maybe it's just...Well, I was going to say afraid, and that's part of it, afraid of being hurt, of being so deeply wounded by that which I truly love so dearly. But it's even more than that. Some days I even question You! Your grace once fit into a system; it made sense. But as I grow, as I get older and reflect more, I'm confused. I mean, and You know I've been thinking about this lately, but my greatest sins have come after my so-called "salvation". My iniquity has been in full view of You and, truthfully, I've known better. And, here's the kicker, I know I'm forgiven. I even, to some degree, know You love me. But God, as fucking childlike as it sounds, I want to feel it! And as I sit here now, with my wife I know wanting peace for me, I long for You! But, I'm just not sure this is even me anymore."
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