God Loves Me for Me
this, that, This, That, THIS, THAT!!! AHHH!!!
It’s 1:00 am and I have so many infectious thoughts burning through my brain. I can’t handle them! I hug my white fluffy pillow with all my might as I curl myself up on my bed. I pretend it’s the God of heavens who comforts me.
I beg, “Abba, take this away, I don’t want it. I want to be like you, but I am filled with doubt, jealousy, and mistrust, and I do not feel worthy. I am so unworthy!”
I scream from the depths of this agony. I need my Lord to rescue me from myself. I hope to feel His presence. But I don’t.
With emptiness in my chest I beg Him to remove my desires, “Abba, they are getting in the way, please have mercy and give me peace. I am so imperfect. Abba, you know my heart. I want to be like you, but I can’t. I feel so empty. I am so empty!!! Abba, if you don’t fill me up I am going to fail you. All I need is your presence and your love. If you don’t fill me up with Yourself, I will sin. I will be consumed by this.”
I hear a ding. Ding. Ding. Ding coming from my phone. Messenger wants me to approve a conversation with the initial flattering message, which also stabs my soul, “Miss, You are so lovely. Can we talk? I’d like to get to know you.” Tears stream down my cheeks as I think to myself, “Why this? Lord I’m asking You to fill me up. You alone!!!”
I do not approve the message, but I remember what a man told me just last week, someone I barely know, “I love you. I want the best for you.” I remember his paralyzed face as he looked into my astonished eyes and my ghost-like complexion. I remember what I said to him as motion returned to my body, “I am sorry. I cannot say that word. That word is too powerful. You. And I. Are brother and sister in the Lord. And that should be enough.”
Then, this thought creeps in, “They want you for the wrong reasons. They either want you because they think you are cute, and you know what that means. Right? OR, they want Jesus in you, but nobody wants you for you. It’s your cute face and Jesus. Not. You. You. Don’t. Matter.”
I quickly turn to Jesus. Crying a river I get on my knees begging the Lord to have mercy, “Abba!!! I do not want to compete with you. This is evil. So evil! I’m in agonizing pain, please I need You!”
All I want is to feel God’s presence, but He doesn’t come.
Instead, I write this to help me process my emotions and that God isn’t showing up. I declare the word of God in the mist of these satanic subtle moves. I hug my pillow and I go to sleep repeating, “Lord you love me. I am Your Sweet Warrior Princess. You have crowned me with Your glory and I know You see me. You are ever present even if I can’t feel You. You love me for me, with my sin and everything. You love me for me.”