I feel lonely. I reach out but still, I feel alone. I know I’m now but I have to face these feelings. It’s a real thing but not the truth. And something that won’t go away.
In my feeling lonely I get to face myself. The deep part of me that hides and doesn’t want to be seen. The painful parts.
My loneliness was designed to push me to God – to my knees (or conversations with God in the car) where I have to feel and see the pain of my humanity.
And I don’t want to. Facing this goes against my self-protective nature. That part that wants to preserve myself. And when I let myself feel the loneliness (and face the raw parts of myself) part of that self-preservation dies – which is the exact thing it and I am afraid of.
I’m afraid of losing everything I think is so important, that never is as important as I think it is or should be.
Each time this happens I come face to face with my self and a decision – to hold on or to let that part of me (the self-preservation) go. To let it die.
This has become an un-decision. I know what the end choice must be. There is only one. To say ‘Yes Papa, I let go and cling to you’. But each time I must also fight my self. For hours or days I must come to grips with seeing who I am and the cost of this surrender. This specific surrender. Not the last one… this one.
It’s never a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. It’s a ‘Yes Daddy. What will this cost me?’ question. Answered quietly in my heart. Even though my tantrum might be public, my screaming at my circumstances seen and heard, the choice is always between my Daddy and I. Made quietly as I let go of me and let Him heal and fill me.