God, please, You know I’m tired of the masks. You know how much I want to burn them all. Please, don’t let this be another thing to pretend I’m good at.
Ok, God, that’s not to bad. Except that You’re not really calling me to physical stillness per se, are You? And You know how my mind can race … yeah, mostly juggling all those masks. afraid of what they’d really think.
God, there hasn’t been many times when You asked me to know something just with my mind. So many times You ask me to know with all I am. with my life.
That I am God.
Part of me, God, says, “That’s it? Any churched preschooler could tell You that. Couldn’t I move on from that?”
But that thought is my worst enemy. Thinking that I’m ready to move past the knowledge that You are God is a lie. a lie from the pit of hell.
Because that’s a lie and that’s pride and that’s setting me up as god.
And because that’s setting You up as less than You truly are. And everything in life is screwed when I don’t treat You as all You are.
You are always God.
I am always not.
And, God, give me the humility to sit in that for a while.
And maybe never move on.