.: moving to keep from standing still :.

I am doing everything within my power to stay awake and alive. I am doing everything that I can do to not go numb. I am doing anything and everything possible to come to grips with my ongoing story. And I am not convinced that I truly do get it. I simply cannot afford myself that false luxury. But even though I know so very little about my own arrogance and selfish pride, the amazing thing is that I am surrounded by the deep love of God. And though I have been catching myself lately in the act of adapting myself to my newfound environments, all I can do is silently mark the moments in my own heart. This I know, I desperately need to recover a sense of confession before the Lord. I need to stop and listen, especially since life has gradually grown far too crazy for me to stay attentive to the voices that I truly need to hear. I keep company with those whom have incredible addictions, and I know enough to know that I am an addict myself. And the arrogance... oh, the arrogance... that has come with thinking that I get it and others do not! And maybe it is because I belong to a generation of people who do not know how to care for their souls. Do you even know the intense sadness that this reality stirs within me? But who will hear my prayers? Who will receive my confession? I desire to learn how to speak far less and listen far more. But who would deny the fact that it is far easier to do something great, rather than be something great? To make a name for myself, instead of resting in the confidence that my Father in Heaven knows my name. But people all around me are losing their sensations for life and pain and joy. Who are we kidding? Every single one of us threatens the other. And what we are left with is a social context that leaves so many of us uncomfortable with the direction of our lives, seemingly matched with nothing at our disposal to turn it all around. I must pause... and realize that I am uneasy with the fact that I do not get to be everybody's savior, even the people that I love the most. My story is not their story. And thank God, their story does not have to be mine. But where do I draw the line? What do I reclaim in my very heart that I have mistakenly traded for the sake of fitting in and being celebrated? As I find myself peeking out of my various shelters, I am reminded that it is best that I come out as soon as possible. The Father is continually calling me out of hiding, and to reclaim the strength that I have lost by attempting to keep myself completely covered. This is my choice to make, and whether I do it or pass on the chance to do so falls on no one other than me. But what must I sacrifice to return to where I once was, or where I need to be? No more denial. No more rationalization. And no more negotiations with the one who longs to see me suffer, no matter how sweet the deal is. Ego really has no good place in all of these things. This I know for sure; it is not going to help me by leaving such things unnamed.