“What are you afraid of?”

she asked me without a hint of regard. She isn’t trying to be coy, nor subtle, nor is she making steps in some sort of elaborate dance around what she is trying to say; she wants to save me. She wants an answer right now, as if all it will take is getting my fear out into the open so the light of enlightenment can break it down into its’ very small parts and then make it disappear. Then she would be happy. I would be happy too, we would be rejoice and bask in the glow of the sunny sunlight of truth and correctness and rightness and everything would be great. Then I’ll be okay, she’ll be okay, we’ll be okay. I’ll be a changed person.

Well, she is right about one thing.

I am afraid. But it’s just not so simple, I mean, it’s much too complicated to explain so easily. It’s not a fear that can just be admitted and then shaken, it’s not like it’s something completely under my own control, there are external elements at work here. You just wouldn’t understand. Maybe.

It’s not like it’s just one thing, it’s many things working together, that is why this is so difficult. Let me try to list them. First and foremost, I am afraid of having to give up everything I heretofore love. That’s my music, my band, my “career” in recording, Caitlin, St. Louis, Virginia, my family, everything. That can be worked through easily enough, but even if God allows me to save all these things the second thing I’m afraid of is that Caitlin will never stop questioning me, or her in relation to me, our relationship that is, and she’ll never be completely satisfied and then she’ll leave. What am I to do?

Three and four are minor. They’re just the fear that everything I’ll do in my life will amount to nothing and that I’ll never be close to God. No big deal. Easy.

I’m angry too.
Angry that there are some people who don’t go through the struggles I do. Those who are graced with the ability to give up everything I’m being asked to give up so easily and then God is there with them immediately. Those whom God hand picks. Why not me? Why can’t I hear the voice of God like others do, like others who don’t even ask for it do? Why do I find it to hard not being selfish? Why hasn’t my request to be drawn close to God been honored? How many times do I have to ask? Am I unable to express my heart truly? Have I been short changed?

What am I to do?


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