dichotomy

The words are there. They're filling me up, so much that I think I might explode soon and say all of these things in my head without warning or hesitation. The connection between my mouth and my heart are at a loss, and my brain refuses to play mediator. I cannot even coherently form all that my heart feels, and I doubt anyone would make sense of what I say if I could, so I just keep it bottled up. I am in this place of deepness. This very solemn, almost sacred place, and I am alone here.

I am beginning to understand what following Jesus costs. Maybe it is over dramatized because there is so much emotion that courses through you when you go to that deep place and you face what you were trying to ignore, but it feels heavy. Jesus is the best thing that ever happened to me. He is also the hardest thing that has happened to me. And in the middle of deep, deep joy that comes from knowing my Savior, there is also a place of deep sadness that washes over me from time to time.

 Free will is a heart breaking thing, because it lets you choose. And choice is both selection and rejection. And I slowly begin to realize that our entire lives are one big choice. One choice made of trillions of smaller choices that are echoing the same thing, that pulse to the same rhythm. And that deep sadness and deep joy that I am becoming familiar with, how much do they also course through God's own heart? How much pride and pleasure does He feel when He looks at us, products of the overflowing love of the Trinity? How much does He break when we choose the things we were never meant to have? To experience? How solemn is his heart when He must let us choose our own destruction? How loving, to give His own workmanship the ability to refuse their own form, breaking His heart in the process?

To love is to be vulnerable, I resonated with this quote from the minute I read it. What kind of mystery is it, that God Himself would become vulnerable, for us? That He would create us and give us the capacity to connect, to relate? We were created to connect, and God has made that possible for us. God has done everything to make that possible. He's not only closed the gap, He's paved the way. And still, we look at the road before our feet, see the Father at the end waiting to hold us again, we look around at the distractions leading no where in particular, and we choose. Every day, we choose. And I do not understand the choice. I don't really understand many things. I just know that sometimes, I feel that I get a whisper of what the heart of God must feel like when it bears the weight of our choices. And it is a heavy feeling indeed.