So I am realizing that I am naïve, driven by lust and attracted to the glitter of what sparkles beneath a rusty patch of filth. I try to find the good in all things, and throw up question marks when things don’t quite add up, but rarely do I ever dig to see if the glint is more than a mere speck of what I thought to be a diamond waiting to be uncovered by me.
“Friendships are serious things”, she said, “and when people keep falling out of our lives, it’s not because we are bad people and we can’t keep a friend. Often times, God is trying to show us something about ourselves.” Sometimes I wish God would just show me. He’s like a poet in my life, speaking things into existence like a Stephen Crane story. I am always lost. It’s always thick and hard to understand, sorta like the King James Version of the Holy Bible. I wish I had a translator.
I have no clue what I need to learn right now. This lesson is not forthright. I am a hermit. I love to be alone. After a day of people, I enjoy zoning out. I enjoy a book and a cup of tea, or at least, the idea of a book and a cup of tea. I really enjoy sleep. I wind up spending most of my days listening to people. They ask for advice, they need my encouragement and they want some answers. Sometimes, they can just go on and on and I can just listen and listen. Hey, as long as we are not talking about me, I’m great.
I could use a translator, or someone willing to tell me how messed up I am. I could use some honesty. I could use a hug while I bawl my eyes out. I could use a shoulder that isn’t condescending, patronizing or judging my tears, saying they belong to a crocodile. I could use a real eye opener. I need to see what He is showing me. What is He showing me?
I hate making the same mistakes again and again, and I do want to be a better person. I just need a translation.