Tag Archives: Approval

October

I’m feeling so insecure these days. A few bright spots here and there, but all of them have been thoughts that are exclusive to Brenda – thoughts about music, getting the painting done, etc.

When I consider my wife these days – I’m afraid. I don’t think I have her heart.

Now I know how she must feel, knowing that I can be so easily pulled away by porn, or even a billboard or a magazine.

Her heart is elsewhere, and there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s nothing that Janet and “accountability” can do about it.

She simply has to choose me, or not.

Jesus doesn’t have my heart.

He knows how I must feel, because when it comes to Him, MY heart is drawn elsewhere for self-worth, and messages about my value, for feelings of acceptance comfort and well-being.

My heart is elsewhere…with other things… and there’s nothing Jesus will do about it – except die, and rise again.

I simply have to choose Him, or not.

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Yom Kippur: Atonement.

Casting all my sin and junk into the wilderness. My sin is already gone – paid for – I’m free. So what am I REALLY getting rid of today?

Self.

My self is screaming to get some justice. Some recognition. Like an angry child, petulant and afraid, it wants, no, needs to be right. Righteous. Self-Righteous.

I want Christ-Righteousness. Every moment that I refuse to cling to the cross and instead cling to my own righteousness is a lost moment.

I’m 5 years old again, choosing pity over real affection. Even if the real affection is limited in quantity, it is of a completely different QUALITY than pity. Pity is junk food, empty calories, plastic imitation junk that can be bought cheaply by the truck load. You can fill your house with the stuff. Real affection is heavy. It has mass. It’s high quality, hand made, one of a kind stuff that does not fade and crack and disintegrate with age.

I would rather have a truck load of pity than one ounce of real love, I guess.

So what if Brenda doesn’t love me like I want her to, as MUCH as I want her to.

So?

What does that mean?

How does this change anything?

What does it say about me?

How can I let go of it, God?

How do I go back home and not be resentful?

I want to die to self – I want the path to blessing (John 13)

But how? Act like Jesus? Just pretend?

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A distinction occurred to me while lying on the floor in my office, “trying” to pray.

I no longer desire to be like someone Brenda could love. I simply want Brenda to love who I am…or at least I’m getting there.

If I were looking into someone else’s life and saw this development, I would say it’s progress.

And so – I will say it’s progress for me too.

I’m learning to be comfortable being “Sam”. I’m no longer putting effort into being someone else, and I’m learning the intricacies and beauty of what it means to be me.

September (cont.)

My selfishness appears to boundless. It may not truly be, but looking back on the Fall of ’06, I cannot see the edges of it. The basic currency of my existence is what others think of me. Even in the midst of disaster. Apparently, I would still be concerned with how my hair looks as the Titanic sinks beneath me. I am flabbergasted at the depths to which my need for approval sinks. Yet, at some point, this downward journey leads me to the place I should be:

O.k. God, how do you see me?

…no…how do you see me?

You have no eyes, and yet you conceived of color and focus.

Am I a pale blur?

Blind God who perceives all.

Do you touch my face with your fingerless touch while  I sleep?

HOW do you see me?

Ah…do you dream? Like a god in a wheelchair, do you run in your dreams?

Do you imagine me?

Are the hammered, Friday night philosophers right? Do I exist in your dreams alone?

Do you dream me?

Am I taller in your dreams?

Am I one of your nightmares?

Are you shouting me out of your mouth?

A new word?

Do you hear me, oh one without ears?

How do you know if I am harsh, or flat?

Am I an angry word? A groan? A giggle?

I need to know when you are pleased.

I don’t feel your pleasure when I do the “right thing”.

I don’t feel you seeing me when I work my hardest.

I feel you seeing me when I am still.

I am your dream when I surrender.

I hear you speak to me when I am quiet.