There's nothing like the bursting bubble of one's own pride. Or at least of one's own belief about oneself. Yesterday I was stunned by the realization that I'm still broken. Blah. You'd think after all the effort I put into delving into my problems and seeking God for help, that I'd be ahead. But no.
It doesn't happen often, but occasionally someone is born into the world with parents that love them, love God, and love the world together. That person grows into a beautiful, majestic story of an effortless beneficiary of God's smile. And I am transfixed by jealousy. Need. Desire. Broken.
I can have all the truth in the world, and I'm like little Golem clutching his Precious. Gems in a smoking battlefield. Still wretched and hurting, but with more accouterments.
Revelation is not Healing. I can think all the right thoughts but I can still be heartbroken.
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