My reality is shifting faster than I can tap-dance. Who will I be at the end of this scramble? What IS the plan? I suspect that I am better off knowing less, and trusting more.
I am afraid of the thoughts that I think, and the things that I believe. I am ashamed of my own cowardice, which looks the woman in the mirror in the face, and says, “You can’t think that thought. If you think that thought, you will never be the same, again. If you fully realize that reality, you can never go back.”
And yet, I am being called into the light of reality, and truth. Scratch that. I am being dragged, kicking and screaming, into the glaring light of a really messed up reality. My head longs for the sand, but somehow, it has turned to concrete, and rejects my advances. My eyes are squeezed shut, my ears stopped up by my own fingers, and STILL, I hear the Voice, because it comes from within. “You have always seen these things. It’s time to stop hiding from them.”
I am horrified every time someone tells me how much they respect my honesty, my transparency, my lack of guile. If they only knew. I am only as honest with you as I am with myself, and there are vast tracks of the land of myself into which I have not yet dared to tread.
My prayer is, “Not yet, not so fast!”
The Voice says, “The Telos of all things is At Hand. Because of this, be sober and diligent in prayer.”
And I beg, “Please, please, may I only believe the comfortable things? May I only face the Truth that costs me little to nothing?”
And even as I ask, I know the Truth. The answer is, “No.”
The Truth will cost me Everything. It demands my all, my unswerving loyalty. My head is turned toward the field. My hand is reaching toward the plow. I know that this is a one-way decision. There is no turning back. So, I dance my tap-dance, one step forward, two steps back, weaving side-to-side, and beg the Voice, the Hound, to be patient.