I can’t blame anything on anything or anyone.  Some times we look into the dark when we really meant to follow the sun.  But I wander, when I meet my sin there, as I often do, wasn’t it a meaningful rendezvous from the start.  See, I’m filled with lust so I track her bust way beyond the casual admiring auditor pent on artful commentary.  Then I focus on the cash and make repeated dash in attempt to purchase things I don’t need for people I don’t know, feeding some sense of accomplishment I don’t understand, but they like, that is I think they do as long as I am catering to their needs.  All to change reality to dream, some well purchased scheme in order to write the story myself, making myself somehow worthy, when I never was, earning something I could never earn, repaying a debt too large to pay, being forgiven for the sin upon which I have a white knuckled clutch.

Wasn’t all this given to God?  My heart, my soul, my strength, my mind and my bod.  God’s got me thinking that it’s rather odd for a Christian to be entertaining each sin.  See Grace covers and wipes out sin, so if there’s sin on my face then I substituted truth for a lie.  How can I get bye with a beam in my own eye when I’m trying to get everyone’s splinters pulled out?  How is this lust in my dreams as real as it seems when it shouldn’t even enter my mind?  Freedom is a wonderful thing but how do I know, when it doesn’t show that I even know what that word even means.  Counting up beans, and little golden good deeds, removing all the weeds with each bundle.  Earning my way, hoping to pay a price beyond any personal measure.  It was done on the cross why then do I fancy the great albatross of enlightened salvation when we can’t get to there, from here except through the DOOR and His name is Christ.  Where my thoughts, works and plans and worthless demands are shouted down by depth of my sorrow.  Delightful for me, tomorrow I see is going to hold some hopeful reckoning, but what about tonight, isn’t that all I have been given?

I love, but I cannot fit into the church as it is currently structured.  I repent that this puts me in a place of judgment where I have established myself unacceptable or the church insufficient to my determinant declaration.   But we sing without tears then go drink wine and beers, chatting about all of our fears and how we have to try and tolerate, tolerate then tolerate. While God’s Good News lingers on our tongues and our fingers that we refuse to use to muse through it wonderful pages.  I know what’s coming and I can barely get my dumb ass out of the way by remembering what it took to find salvation.  I have forgotten and perhaps you may relate to forgetting my first love.  I used to put God first in everything.  Now it would be a rare day to be in scripture upon waking, be in the Bible before News, be in the street with good shoes quickly leading to the Gospel of Peace, without the slightest worldly intent to swindle.  None of this little stuff should matter, not my tea and certainly not the mad hatter, some wonderland, go no people but those I fund, got no church except the one that I fund, got no family except the one I can tolerate, masking their sins, like ignoring the silver pin in their nose and the bobby pin their chins.  Is this going to work itself out, of that I have no doubt, because it depends not on me but on Christ.  I just thank you once again for loving me and beg your forgiveness for my repeatedly falling down on this well lighted path.