i worry, way to much. especially for one who professes to be a christian. i worry… way to much.

i worry about my health. i worry about what other people think. i worry about my future. i worry about my past. i worry, or fear rather… that i’ll just not be good enough and God will simply write me off. ill worry that my idea of God is based on my life experiences and not on who He truly is. i worry that God may only be the sum total of my life experiences and that who He truly is doesnt matter.

yet, i am a christian.

funny huh?

my life is a study in contradiction. you could write your thesis on my life. on what runs through my head… and of how messed up i sometimes am.

i worry that i wont be good enough for a free gift. yes, thats right… a gift with no strings attached that would be as readily given to mother theresa as marilyn manson… i worry that i wont be good enough for that gift.

i walk around every day trying, giving 110% at every single thing i do, hoping against hope that ill just be good enough to help ease the pain. to make life easier again. to be happy. to feel joy. to let go.

i live each day planned out so firmly because subconsciously i feel that if i do everything right, that the other shoe wont drop. that surprises wont be bad anymore. that phone calls from home and trips out to dinner wont be laced with the pain and hurt of the past 3 years.

i simply want everything to be ok again. i want to forget about all that happened. i just want it to be ok again.

to stop hurting….

there was once a time when i didnt worry so much. when i was more in love with my saviour… and less infatuated with the hell of life. i want to go back there again…

but im realizing that i cant. i cannot go back. there are times when i just want to scream out in desperation because i cant go back to being innocent. i cant go back to having a child-like heart simply because id not yet experienced enough of life to change my heart to adult-like.

its no longer that easy to have a child-like heart. now i have to almost ignore the circumstances that life drops on you like pianos from the sky. now i have to focus on who God is. on who He professes to be. on the author and finisher of my faith.

i have to. because i cant finish it. im no good at this thing.

im scared. im terrified. i’m the little kid at the top of the slide who selfishly demanded that his daddy not stand behind him as he climbed the ladder that led to the beginning of his life’s journey… that lead to the top of the slide. so here the little kid stands, death grip on the railings of the slide, he doesnt move… because now he sees how far he’s gone, and how far away his daddy is…

now im not going to finish the story of the little kid on the slide, because the story needs to finish itself…

but rest assured of this one thing: no matter the ending, his daddy will be there. whether the little boy loses his grip and falls, or intentionally lets go and slides… his daddy will be there.

it doesnt matter if daddy catches him, or slows his landing:-)… He will be there.

i need to know that. in the very core of who i am, i need to know that.