personal disclaimer
In my attempts of cleaning off my desktop in the last days of being in my twenties, I have found some old "thoughts" that I thought I'd share...just because I can.
Just a little foreword to this note - in case some of you have failed to realize this glaring point in my life: I AM NOT PERFECT!
What spurred this train of thought?...a conversation - somewhat heated - that ended with this:
"You always have an answer. You always have the right thing to say."
This might have been on the borders of being encouraging, had it not been laced with an underlying bitterness.
These words lashed deeply into my thoughts tonite - and I was stunned to silence. With only one thing to say:
I'm sorry.
Sorry if at times I spout idealistic thoughts that could not find home in your world.
Sorry if while in the attempts to figure out truth I don't convey enough of my own reality -
the reality that I battle with sin every day and am in desperate need of a Saviour.
Sorry if I've inadvertently hidden the fact that
I don't have everything figured out.
I don't execute truth as I'd like.
I'm not as strong as you may think.
I'm human.
Really...I am.
I have come to the conclusion that I am profoundly and irrevocably screwed up.
Due to DNA there seems little hope of reversing that fact.
Thanx to Jesus I have a chance!
There are a million and one thoughts that fill my twisted and analytical mind...only a small fragment of which are birthed into actual sentances that find their ways through my lips or fingers. Tonite in my room I had a practice run of saying things I've always wanted to say - but have lacked the courage, the freedom, or the balance to utter. The sentences looked a little like this:
"...I'm afraid of disappointing you with who I really am..."
"...I wish you'd call...I really want to talk..."
"...I forgot. I'm sorry..."
"...I'm struggling...give me a minute..."
"...I need help..."
"...I can't do this..."
"...this hurt me..."
There's something liberating in the actuality of saying things out loud - even if only to yourself. Especially when you're being absolutely honest.
So I write this little note that you'll never receive...
You just became the faceless target of what I'd like to say but probably never will.
I'm good at that you know...hiding.
Behind emails.
Behind words.
Behind faces.
Behind a strength that even I can't hold up to.
I want to be real.
Raw.
Honest.
Transparent.
Accountable.
No more games.
No more misunderstandings.
No more guessing.
I want you to know me.
The real me.
The whole me.
Not just the pieces I let slip every once in a while.
No...each dark and shadowed corner.
Every unchartered thought.
The depths of unsurfaced emotion.
I want to be aware of your presence -
To be uncomfortablely awkward in its glory -
and find the freedom I am craving.
For tho exemplifying strength,
Underneath I am afraid.
Afraid of rejection.
Afraid of disappointing.
Afraid of losing.
Not ready to be wrong.
About you.
About myself.
About this thing we call life
and what we try to understand about death.
I want to drink in this cup
This cup of reality
The bitterness of pain
The burning of passion
The pursuit of victory.
I am intense.
I live intense.
I love intense.
And I want more.
More of you.
More than enough.
I want to be free.
Free to laugh.
Free to dance.
Free to create.
Free to be.
And I want you to love me.
Not because you agree with me...
But just because you can...
Because you want to...
Despite myself.
Just a little foreword to this note - in case some of you have failed to realize this glaring point in my life: I AM NOT PERFECT!What spurred this train of thought?...a conversation - somewhat heated - that ended with this:
"You always have an answer. You always have the right thing to say."
This might have been on the borders of being encouraging, had it not been laced with an underlying bitterness.
These words lashed deeply into my thoughts tonite - and I was stunned to silence. With only one thing to say:
I'm sorry.
Sorry if at times I spout idealistic thoughts that could not find home in your world.
Sorry if while in the attempts to figure out truth I don't convey enough of my own reality -
the reality that I battle with sin every day and am in desperate need of a Saviour.
Sorry if I've inadvertently hidden the fact that
I don't have everything figured out.
I don't execute truth as I'd like.
I'm not as strong as you may think.
I'm human.
Really...I am.
I have come to the conclusion that I am profoundly and irrevocably screwed up.
Due to DNA there seems little hope of reversing that fact.
Thanx to Jesus I have a chance!
There are a million and one thoughts that fill my twisted and analytical mind...only a small fragment of which are birthed into actual sentances that find their ways through my lips or fingers. Tonite in my room I had a practice run of saying things I've always wanted to say - but have lacked the courage, the freedom, or the balance to utter. The sentences looked a little like this:
"...I'm afraid of disappointing you with who I really am..."
"...I wish you'd call...I really want to talk..."
"...I forgot. I'm sorry..."
"...I'm struggling...give me a minute..."
"...I need help..."
"...I can't do this..."
"...this hurt me..."
There's something liberating in the actuality of saying things out loud - even if only to yourself. Especially when you're being absolutely honest.
So I write this little note that you'll never receive...
You just became the faceless target of what I'd like to say but probably never will.
I'm good at that you know...hiding.
Behind emails.
Behind words.
Behind faces.
Behind a strength that even I can't hold up to.
I want to be real.
Raw.
Honest.
Transparent.
Accountable.
No more games.
No more misunderstandings.
No more guessing.
I want you to know me.
The real me.
The whole me.
Not just the pieces I let slip every once in a while.
No...each dark and shadowed corner.
Every unchartered thought.
The depths of unsurfaced emotion.
I want to be aware of your presence -
To be uncomfortablely awkward in its glory -
and find the freedom I am craving.
For tho exemplifying strength,
Underneath I am afraid.
Afraid of rejection.
Afraid of disappointing.
Afraid of losing.
Not ready to be wrong.
About you.
About myself.
About this thing we call life
and what we try to understand about death.
I want to drink in this cup
This cup of reality
The bitterness of pain
The burning of passion
The pursuit of victory.
I am intense.
I live intense.
I love intense.
And I want more.
More of you.
More than enough.
I want to be free.
Free to laugh.
Free to dance.
Free to create.
Free to be.
And I want you to love me.
Not because you agree with me...
But just because you can...
Because you want to...
Despite myself.
posted by The Bean Bag Chair at 7:17 AM
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