afraid of…

December 19, 2005

I’ve always been afraid of being one of those guys you don’t really see in the movies. Like, I’ve always wondered if I’m the actor that get’s killed off in the opening scene before he ever gets to go anywhere. Even worse I wonder if, instead of being the hero who solves the crime, I’m just one of the victims, never even getting to show off before my small role in lifes grand scheme ends.

It’s sad, I crave significance in a weird way. I have to think sometimes, what is wrong with me? My life shouldn’t be about me. Yet, here I am, trapped in this skin, unable to escape this body with it’s lusts and appetities. All of which, by the way, are about gratifying me. I wonder, what was God thinking? He could come up with any scheme, how come free will had to enter the picture, and why are the consequences so terrible? I’m not even talking about the insane amount of poverty, the desperate plight of the enviroment, or anything else that’s affecting this earth. I’m asking why a God who loves me so much that he was willing to be brutally murdered for my sake started off the whole process by allowing an event that makes it next to impossible for me to talk to him.

I miss him, there was a time when I felt like I was connected to him. Now I just feel like I’m too dirty for him to respond when I speak to him. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, just not sorry enough to never do it again. Jesus, your cost is so heavy, only you’ll be able to make it worth it to me. Please do.


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