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Then he asked them, “But who do YOU say I am?”

– Matthew 16:15 NLT, (emphasis mine)

The question asked is the same that spills from my lips.
I realize now that who you have been has been formed and spoon fed to me by everyone else.

No wonder I have lost faith,
I want actually putting it in you.

Versions and opinions have tickled my ears.
I found safety in numbers,
but I have yet to lean in all the way to hear you whisper it yourself.

Close enough to hear from you.
Catch my breath.
Intensity might break me.
I retreat.
Pull away.
Intimacy so powerful it scares me.
Loss of control ruling me.
Keeping me continually at bay.

Scared that this love might be true and may pull me away with it.

Like the ocean tugs at the shore.

The tide comes, fills, pulls with it any and all that it can and the sand has no choice but to crumble and tumble away.
Washed up in the power of a wave.
Castles and creations carved so carefully into wet sand stand no chance.
Walls and moats and design are unmatched and will be filled.
Overwhelmed with the water.

It’s only a matter of factual time.

Counted and calculated science.
Minutes and seconds are real.

So is doubt.

So tide, what use have you for this grain of sand?
What’s the point of this dance we dance?
Back and fourth.
Consistent.
Like my prayers.
Stirring up in me like a torrent upon the sea.
And you ask me why I’m afraid and of such little faith?
Calm waves and quiet are promised in but a single word from you…
Why can’t I rest in that?
My muddied efforts on shore were reliable weren’t they?
Until they weren’t.

Faith built upon trusted friendships as long and pure as courtships.
Instead of building on true lordship and worship.
Earning affections instead of freedom.
And now that it’s complicated they can’t be found.
Knit picking positions only to be lost in the aftermath of untying knots.

I’m sad to be glad of that.
The less voices to hear you over the better.

Can’t withstand the whip and sting on my heart again.
Leaving me to build shelter.
You say I have no need to fear this gust of rejection from you.

But,

Are you who you say you are?
A lover of souls?
A forgiver of sins?
A healer?
Almighty savior?
Teacher?
Creator?
Holy and perfect spirit?
Closer to me than my own breath?
Singing and rejoicing over me in song?
Sustaining me?
Filling me with good things?

Relief, because what I’ve been using to fill has left me empty.

Sheltered from the storm.
Filled, full and calm.