I cut
the rope. I don’t see where I came from. I go into the unknown.
What
do I find? Change is my fear. Being different is my fear. Being queer. Being forever
ruled not by purpose but by the emotive waves of stormy emotion buffeting me. Being
a quitter. My fears tie me down to the way I used to be, to my past. My fears comfort me. However, a broken
record player repeats a truth I grasp, that... “Fear knocked on the door, and faith answered.”
Faith
in Jesus Christ. Faith. Blind faith? It’s not blind, my faith. And all of
everything lives inside the moment of now.
My
job is to cultivate, water, hoe the ground of my faith so that it works, rain
or shine.
I choose
to feel. (Not to say that I also choose not to feel) The dragon is that I
am a coward, a sissy, a fraud who does not have sufficient masculinity to win
the heart of a woman.
This
is where an Evil One enters the picture. This Liar well realizes my hatred
mistakenly directed at God on account of my year after year, decade after
decade of being a single man, and the resentment in me about it, and how
hopeless and helpless I feel about it.
Faith
supplies the reason to believe that my joy, my happiness depends not on any one human
being, but on my relationship with He who granted to me His salvation.
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