….from the pieces of broken….

Psalms 51 Reflection….(I think)

The mindset of David during this writing intrigues me. My sin is ever before me…even though God will and has forgiven me, why can’t I? Thankfully, His love is steadfast or else I’d be long forgotten. I don’t feel like my sin is against Him alone, but against others too. David committed adultery with Bathsheba, got her husband killed, and yet he feels like his sin is against God alone. I feel like it’s easy to ask God for forgiveness. But do I feel forgiven?

I deserve whatever is the sentence. I read and understand the Psalm, but part of me still thinks, but then what? What happens after I’m cleaned? My desires are all but gone. David desired to make things better and ultimately did. But my desires are to simply pass the time until what? I have no idea.

I don’t know if I can teach transgressors Your ways. I often think of how nice it must be to be alone, but then who would I teach if I was? Wouldn’t matter I guess since I’m not doing too great myself. At this point, it would only be do as I say, not as I do. That does not make for effective leadership. Maybe this is why I don’t feel like I can belong to a church right now. I walk into a church and people think I’m some great Christian since I major in religion, but that doesn’t mean I’m where I need to be spiritually by any means.

The acceptable sacrifice is a broken spirit. This was said before Jesus came to break His spirit. I think I am at a point where I truly must die to myself. Who emerges from that, I have no idea. Maybe that’s what I need to do to feel different and feel the desire to do better.

Since starting counseling I have done a few things better. I haven’t been watching the internet as much (it’s a start). We’ve been praying more. I’ve been praying more. But I honestly don’t feel any different. I don’t even care if I feel different because I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling. Yeah yeah, my feelings are my own, but as soon as my feelings aren’t right and other people are upset by them, they are no longer my own and now I have to explain why I’m angry, why women are objects, why I’m jealous, envious, greedy, selfish. It’s all things that are supposed to be fixed but are not being fixed. Suddenly it’s about being on the defense while others claim their feelings are hurt but no one wants to hurt other people’s feelings. At least I don’t. It’s not worth it.

As in the song Ashes of Eden by Breaking Benjamin

Will the faithful be rewarded when we come to the end?
Will I miss the final warning from the lie that I have lived?
Is there anybody calling, I can see the soul within.
And I am not worthy. I am not worthy of this.

Are you with me after all?
Why can’t I hear you?
Are you with me through it all?
Then why can’t I feel you?

Stay with me, don’t let me go.
Because there’s nothing left at all.
Stay with me, don’t let me go.
Until the Ashes of Eden fall.

Heaven above me, take hand.
Stay with me, don’t let me go.
Shine until there nothing left but you.


Memory Lane…

So the first blog I wrote was in August of 2010. All things looked good. I was studying the bible, quoting verses. Things were looking great. In July of 2011 I wrote a blog called, I Love My Church. Then…in September something went terribly wrong. And things got worse. I really don’t know if anything’s gotten better since either.

In September I wrote a blog called Friday Musings…Honestly. I have come to think that anytime someone starts a statement with “honestly,” then nothing good is about to be said. Honestly never ends greatly.

I no longer go to that church that was referenced in that blodg. I still honestly could careless about it either and really wish they would close their doors. I shouldn’t wish such things on people, but they really don’t do our little town any good. I’m not sure that any of the churches here are making a difference. Is that place doing good for some people? Maybe. But it’s under false pretenses so that they can have a tanning bed and live on a golf course. Am I still bitter…obviously.

But, I’ve come to grips with my anger and now it’s a part of my cynicism and skeptical ponderings. Anger and bitterness are just as much a part of me as oxygen and blood. Yay me. So….moving down the lane….

I could see a slow descent from then onward. Spiraling down…not even trying to stop. So I started writing poetry. Poetry can be cryptic and beautiful and artistic…all while being so allusive. But thankfully, due to the start of that terrible depression (that I never called depression) I found a lot of beautiful music, namely Ludovico Einaudi on Nov. 10, 2011.

Then in December I wrote, The Stranger I See. That stranger is no longer a stranger. I know him very well and he is the new norm. The person it speaks about previously knowing is long gone. Forever. I can stop there…I can handle “memory lane” for only so long. It does make me realize just how bad I let things get…

More journaling this evening…yay.


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