The problem is, there are things I want to say. Deep things. And I have a friend who will tease me endlessly about my desperation, about my forthright, candid disclosures. I've tried to remember that anyone can read this, but now I no longer care. More than anything, I hate the terrifying thought that I'm completely a mystery to every other human being on this planet. Often, I wonder: Is everyone posturing all the time? Do any of us really know each other at all? What if we know images of each other, but never the real thing? God (allegedly) knows everything about us and loves us deeply, most especially His children, who believe in the Son of God, Jesus Christ. Fair enough. But I need some kind of an idea that I'm not entirely alone in the human sense, and/or crazy. These very moments, I feel entirely unique. Different. Strange. I feel very stupid, because I still believe that pure love exists. I'd like to think I've given it, if only for a moment, and inconsistentl
A Christian blog, because: "For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen." (Romans 11:36)