|copied directly out of my journal|
I felt led to start reading the third book in the Wingfeather Saga tonight, I heard that whoever told me to read it (Which I think may have been God) has something to tell(or show?) me.
I just got to a point on the fifth page or so where I just stopped for a moment mid paragraph, I think. I’m not entirely sure why, but there is something there (It has also been fairly clear that God has something to say to me through this book/my reading tonight). I sense and or feel a relation to Janner. I feel his pain, his memory, his conflict, his internal thoughts, his feelings, his love, his desire to be more and grow and to trust the Maker, his wanting to know, his leadership, his fear, his doubt, his being. I feel like I can relate closely to him and his memories seem to bring a sweep of memories of my own. His feelings seem to bring a sweep of feelings within me. It is as if God is using Janner to open my own mind to show me what is in there and to reveal more of myself to me. I my heart is heavier right now and I sense a weight of what may be about to take place as I continue to read this and delve into it, and I am kind of fearful, just as Janner might be. Yet I know that if God is in it, I have nothing to fear - especially if God leads me to it. I know that I need to trust Him in this. God give me strengthen, excitement, and endurance. Open my mind and heart and gates to what you have for me according to your will and your way.
I feel like I want to cry. I feel that emotion over me and I do not know what to make of it. I do not know exactly why, and I really do not “feel” like digging into it right now. But then again, I probably will not ever “feel” like digging into for much at all. Lord help me. I don’t know what I am to see. I see a vast and terrible and awesome ocean on all sides. There are mountains in the far left-side distance to the left-ish of me - just like the vision of where dad was at a while back when we were praying at Grandma Baurer’s in her James St. living room, with the lights off. The sky is blue and the water nice, but it is terrifying and beautiful at the same time. I fear leaving the deck of the ship and stepping into a little lifeboat or rowboat in the terrible wide and vast ocean. Yet I have a great emotion while standing on the deck and I can in-vision myself out there in a rowboat on the horizon floating “alone” in the beautiful and vastly incomprehensible openness surrounding me. I am amazed and “alone”. I fear what might be around me out in that little vessel and what might come out of the water, especially when I am not expecting it. I fear the surprises that might come out and the fear is leading to more fear and paranoia, fear upon fear. I am not enjoying my time out on the rowboat on the vast expanse of seemingly nothingness except water, fearing what “could” happen at any given moment. My life seems a wreck and I feel my mind shutting down from the fear and overwhelmingness of the fear upon fear upon fear without anyTHING to do about it. I am internally curling up into a ball shutting down, freaking out, crying, and not knowing what to do, nearing wishing I were dead so that I did not have to deal with this. I want to pull my hair out but the twisting of my insides just make me want to curl up even more, shut out the world and scream as loud as I can trying to release this pain, fear, frustration, overwhelmingness, and doubt. I do not quite know how to respond except to curl up into this ball, as I would internally as a child when a school problem became too much. When I over thought something and got too caught up in it, this same reaction came and time and soothing, calming, and comforting words helped. But my internal flesh just wanted to be alone, to hide all of this and not let it out, it wanted to ball it up in anger and frustration and fear and burry it as if it never happened. I would just want to push it down, leaving that ball of fear and worry, and anxiety, and overwhelmingness, and frustration, and anger, and shame, and stress deep within me, not knowing where else to put it. I did not want to just be still, but to curl up, to squirm and twitch and writhe. It was all uncomfortable and I did not know how to handle it; I did not know how to process it; I did not know what to do with it. I did not want to talk about my feelings or what was going on inside of me, because, on the outside, I did not even really know, and it was quite uncomfortable to try to dig down into that ball that I just pushed down, or was trying to push down. I did not understand how to grab hold of that and put it into words. I did not even realize that I felt all this way, because I pushed it all down. And I most certainly did not want any of it to resurface again. And thus I did this whole process again and again so many times that it seems to have created quite a mess and pressure down in me that I feel like needs to come up and out and be let go of, but I am not sure what that will all look like, and I kind of fear it, even though I know that it will be good. But I want it out - it has been my prayer for many times, and now that I have a somewhat better glimpse of what is down there, I do want to let it out. I want to let it out to God and let Him have it. I do not know how much is down in me, but I want it all out. I feel a peace and release and a joy just typing this and thinking about letting it out - how much more will I have when have release it to Him - and by release, I mean to let go… with no strings attached to pull it back with later on…. entirely let it go…. period.
