Yahweh,
Fear is niggling around the periphery of my consciousness.
It forebodes failure.
Anxious that I will be found false, I hurry to my corner where my blanket lies with the big, fluffy pillow that I wrap my arms around and hold tightly to my heart.
Lord,
I sometimes wish wistfully; waiting; wanting
That I could simply sit and share quietly among the multitudes who call on You.
It would be so much simpler to get lost among those who shine far brighter than I.
Then, perhaps, the dimness of my own light would be covered, drowned and no one would notice me cowering at the edge.
Yeshua,
When I read the stories of how you ran to hide away from the masses in the early hours of the morning, I see a kindred Spirit.
In solitude with Abba we can rest secure.
It is only when the crowds press us into action that the anxiety rises like a tide driven by hurricane force winds. A tidal surge that inundates and drowns.
God,
But, that’s not how I’m wired, is it?
No, for better or worse I have been blessed, (cursed?), with a mind that can see and understand things.
I am given words and music that overflow and must be channeled in order to irrigate and nourish others.
But, I feel so inadequate.
I feel so exposed.
I feel so false.
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