If that title doesn't describe anything, nothing I type will help. God are you real? I believe you are. You don't seem to be, but my perception doesn't and can't really define your reality, or your ability. Why have I come to experience such a self-deserved, self-inflicted wound to the most precious aspects of my being, to the faith that so sustains my physical, intellectual, relational, emotional, and psychological worlds. Just like that, I've crumbled. I have come to ruins because of sin. I have come to the edge of confusion, the edge where right before tumbling to a bottomless pit of confusion the grace of the one who saved me holds me by the leaf of my collar, keeping me from falling to my total death. Why didn't you keep me from falling when it seemed that there was no way out? Well, you said you will never let me be tempted beyond what I can bear? You also said you will always provide a way out. So by that, I automatically know you are right and I am wrong. I am at a point where I really can't and don't want to even shed a tear because I have cried so many meaningless tears only to return to the sam….[well, I guess I couldn't hold these tears back. give me a second].
Does it even matter the tears I cry? Why does everything seem so meaningless, but the one person that holds all meaning can't seem to, I can't even find the words….can't seem to…I want to say "can't seem to make Himself known", but I know that's a lie. Because God I know you have made yourself known, you have made your attributes perfectly known. You have revealed your character in every way. But you haven't revealed yourself as you are, in person, but you have promised to do this when we finally meet you in heaven, face to face. I guess I am supposed to accept that by faith until then. What about when my faith is dead like now. God I am in tears, realizing the more I write and ask questions, the more you just seem to be answering me through some form, maybe through your Spirit, whom I thought left me already. Hmm.
God I realize Jesus Christ has done the work, and has paid for my every sin. For my every struggle. For my every doubt. For my every pain. I realize that your discipline doesn't mean abandonment and that in due time you will restore me like the prodigal son and dust off the signs of the battle, which I lost, but Christ won.
Your son whom you love (even though I don't feel it now).
P.S. I need you. I need answers and you are the answer.