Heart Cry - Reflections inspired by Worship

You make beautiful things…
Am I a beautiful thing?
Will I rise on eagles’ wings?
Will I one day hear the angels sing?
Will this pain and sorrow come to an end?
Do you hear the sound of my crying heart?
Will I rise when you call my name?

Holy holy holy is the lamb who was slain…
You’re all I have
You’re the rock I cling to
Though you wreck me, still will I worship you

Yet anger rages in my soul
A repressed and dangerous emotion…
Born out of the repressed truth of my heart
The voice never heard
The potentials never utilized 
The loneliness never satisfied
Desires never pursued
Longings not fulfilled
Expectations dashed
The relationships which failed to last
Hopes that dwindle and die
Passivity that ruled for so long
Sadness without purpose or ending

Resignation comes quickly like a flood
On a hot summer night in a valley
High cliffs surrounding
The only way out are a series of leaps of faith
Off ledges too steep to climb

Frustration rushes to the surface
Blind to the majesty granted
All I can see is what I do not have
What I am not
What I have not done
The words never spoken
The love not expressed
Complicit Silence in the face of a cacophony of darkness
Joining in on the depravity
How can there be hope for me?

Deep down I know
The shallow desires I have
Once received 
will only create an even bigger expanse
In my already swiss cheese heart

Who will save me from this doomed existence?
Praise be to Christ
The one and only
With black holes in his hands and feet
Absorbing the sin,
The failures
My Lust, passivity, idolatry, and…hate 
Forever removed and never counted against
Me

A gaping hole in his side
Pouring his bloody heart force
Into my soul’s core
At the same time
Refreshing my parched throat
With Living water
for no cost, not for sale
Overflowing streams
Renewing
Replenishing the hope
That one day all wrongs are made right
And my propensity to mess things up will end

Peace will come to my soul
I will have rest,
True love,
Wondrous landscapes,
A Heart abounding with joy

So I offer this heart completely to you, oh God
I stand, before you Lord, my soul surrendered
I stand with my arms high
With my heart abandoned to you
In awe of the one who gave it all
For me
All I am is yours

10/10/2014 

Insight

The agony of a broken heart pales in comparison to regret…and the subsequent self-hatred it breeds in my soul.

written September 10, 2014

Creation of the Perfect Woman

Please forgive me, Lord Jesus!

----------

I use what I tiny bit I know of an attractive woman, and create a fully formed (yet definitely fictional) character in my mind.

I add meaning to her interests, hobbies, relationships… I compare and contrast these things with my own. This fantastical female is created seamlessly and often subconsciously without me even trying. She has taken many forms throughout the years.

The inevitable outcome is a woman who would not love me just as I am. Simply for who I am and not what I do. But instead this golden haired woman is smarter, more socially competent or connected. She has grand dreams and envious drive... Opinions, passion and an enchanting personality...all of which I could never match or I fear that I lack... in other words, she has life "figured out"... In my interactions with her, I begin with these assumptions -- giving her an advantage and a precedent for me to trust her more than myself. And obviously, knowing what I do about myself -- having a front row to all my mistakes and darkness --, I believe I could never satisfy her and I would always disappoint her...

For some sick reason I am fixated on creating this goddess and figuring out a way to be loved by this perfect being, or at least gain a sense of value by her shallow appreciation of my acts of service, sacrifice, sense of humor or intelligence. All with great struggle.

Somewhere deep in a dark recesses of my heart I need her approval, whatever the cost to my identity, interests, plans or esteem, even to the (very self-imposed) death of my soul. This pattern is a fatal poison to my heart.

When this realization hit me last week, I awoke to the horror that when I see myself through this 'real' but increasingly fictional woman's eyes...I don't like myself. I even detest my name. I am inherently deficient... I can only see the boy who is passive, indecisive, troubled, cowardly and remarkably "less than" ...

My childlike heart inaudibly mumbles...'Why can't I find a way to be 'equal to?'" But in these dark moments that's not even a series of words I want to consider.

It leads to another question: "How could a real man so aware of his faults ever be loved by a perfect fantasy?

It reminds me of the film, Inception, but in reverse. In his dreams, Dom (Leonardo DiCaprio) projects a representation of his dead wife, but the projection is incomplete and flawed. He says "I could never create [her] with all her complexities" and depth that his true wife had. He says this before saying goodbye to her and making peace with his torture of regret.

The kicker for me is the realization that my projection of the woman speaks in the voice of the part of my soul that still doesn't like or accept myself...the part that is my constant companion and saboteur... This insidious inner critic who is always watching, waiting for the tiniest flaw or crack... If I can't even be accepted by a fantasy, how could I ever be accepted by a reality? This critic is a stubborn fellow and he has learned his trade well.

So well, that I believe the real life woman can pick up on this spiritual energy and echo it back in 5.1 surround sound. Creating a self-fulfilling prophecy and lo and behold, my assumptions of the situation are confirmed. "She" will never truly love me.

And the cycle continues...it’s almost as if my worldview could not accept the truth where a real woman loves me for who I am, and not for what I could do or give her. So when 'she' ignores me, or breaks up with me or divorces me, my world makes sense.

I am afraid to think what would happen if "she" actually did love me. It certainly would be a "glitch in [my] Matrix" ... Could I even accept that real love?

Am I willing to find out?

Will I ever awake from this nightmare?

written August 22, 2014

Read "Wild At Heart" by John Eldredge for more on the "golden-haired woman"