No Joan of Arc, I...
Feb. 19th, 2004 07:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lsdiamondSo God spoke to me this morning. Audibly. I mean, it was in my head, but all clear. A voice I don't recognize, but know, despite. This hasn't happened in a *very* long time, and I have been avoiding contact lately, so I'm not surprised.
I was starting breakfast, and thinking how maybe I should just take (certain unnamed friend) up on her offer for antidepressants. It's an easy way out, but at least I wouldn't break my promise to +Kyle to "never cut again". At least I wouldn't care anymore. At least I wouldn't hurt.
So I went into the bathroom while it cooked, to clean up a bit before getting ready for work, and there it was.
"I sent My Son to die for you."
"...I know you did," I said aloud.
"I got you out of this once."
I waited. "...I know you did."
I waited more. There was silence awhile, while I thought...not directly asking, but just thinking questions. "Yes, but how did you do it? It's been so long...I don't remember." I thought I'd better be quiet inside so I could hear anything else, then thought, "Duh, He's God...He can drown the rest out if He wants to." More silence.
Then, "All you had to do was ask."
That's true. "Yeah, ask, and give myself totally over to you. I don't know if I want that in my life right now."
A little more silence, and then, as calmly and gently as before, "What is so wonderful about your life right now that you don't want to give it up? What are you going to miss?"
I don't know. Neither of us said anything else, but now I have to think. What *is* it that I don't want to give up? Misery? Sadness? Grief? Worry? The constant battle over my language? The nagging (if few and far between) thoughts of getting what I need elsewhere? The distress of having to talk to +Kyle about anything for fear of his reaction, despite the fact that he's doing much better? The daily annoyances? That unending on-the-verge-of-tears-yet-they-won't-come? I could be giving all that up. I wouldn't have to worry about it...about anything.
I have to go to work. I need to think.
I was starting breakfast, and thinking how maybe I should just take (certain unnamed friend) up on her offer for antidepressants. It's an easy way out, but at least I wouldn't break my promise to +Kyle to "never cut again". At least I wouldn't care anymore. At least I wouldn't hurt.
So I went into the bathroom while it cooked, to clean up a bit before getting ready for work, and there it was.
"I sent My Son to die for you."
"...I know you did," I said aloud.
"I got you out of this once."
I waited. "...I know you did."
I waited more. There was silence awhile, while I thought...not directly asking, but just thinking questions. "Yes, but how did you do it? It's been so long...I don't remember." I thought I'd better be quiet inside so I could hear anything else, then thought, "Duh, He's God...He can drown the rest out if He wants to." More silence.
Then, "All you had to do was ask."
That's true. "Yeah, ask, and give myself totally over to you. I don't know if I want that in my life right now."
A little more silence, and then, as calmly and gently as before, "What is so wonderful about your life right now that you don't want to give it up? What are you going to miss?"
I don't know. Neither of us said anything else, but now I have to think. What *is* it that I don't want to give up? Misery? Sadness? Grief? Worry? The constant battle over my language? The nagging (if few and far between) thoughts of getting what I need elsewhere? The distress of having to talk to +Kyle about anything for fear of his reaction, despite the fact that he's doing much better? The daily annoyances? That unending on-the-verge-of-tears-yet-they-won't-come? I could be giving all that up. I wouldn't have to worry about it...about anything.
I have to go to work. I need to think.
