I'm all out of faith . . .
I wrote in my journal. I took a walk. I talked to God. The thoughts still resound in my head, wreaking havoc on my emotions. What do I do with these feelings? Where do I put them? A friend of mine would tell me to place the pain in my God box. I wish it were that simple. Part of me wants to talk it out. I want to tell someone. I want someone else to help carry my insanity. Only God can stand the weight of my need, and He seems distant.
My friend had a break through with God. His Holy Spirit showed up and changed her heart. A very damaged, distructive heart, which I had given up on. She called me to share in her victory, and oh how I wanted to rejoice with her. I wanted to jump up and down and scream, "I have my best friend back", yet the words never came. I told her I would be waiting with arms wide open when she chose to come home. Instead, she got a closed fist. Will I always be the resentful brother?
Fear is a powerful force. Trust is brutal. I have never felt such an intense inner conflict. These two polar opposites are battling for my understanding. They are a double edged sword, a flipsided coin. Somewhere between them lies truth. It's concealed from me at the present moment. I don't want to be dissapointed again, so I choose to be skeptical.
Well, there's a way to get out of yourself. Do a random phone survey on which news stations advertise on the radio, and annoy your napping sister with the sound of the touchtone keys.