I get into these states where I am critical of myself and how I’ve behaved spiritually. Are we doing so badly in life because I am blasphemous, because I am very extreme at times? Are we suffering finically because I am not doing enough for God?
Part of me wants to rear up like a infuriated horse, “Of course I have, see what I do with ….!” And then after I do that? I feel a deep shame. Who am I to say that I am doing all that I can to be worthy of His blessings? Certainly there are things I can do better.
In frantic half imagined apologies today, (under the influence of strep and amoxicillin I had such an episode) I begged Him to forgive me, had not the pendulum of my life swung low enough yet, close enough yet, to the bottom, to the dirt? Is it not time for our upward sweep towards the good great sky?
I dreamed. In a house with French doors leading to a torn and tossed sun room. I see two more doors leading out into the back. It’s night, and I see eyes, a dog, a German Shepard with a collar. I make a silly face at him and he growls and barres his teeth and tries to physically make his way into my house, to me. The French doors out back are locked but barely holding and the ones here by me are unlocked, they are open! He’ll make it through the others soon, quickly lock these! But my fear, it’s hard to move my hands, to shut the doors, to turn the lock! All I see are gold eyes and teeth and all I hear is my frightened breathing. I think, “Once I let fear in, it will never leave.”
I wake up.
Interesting. I dream every night you know, I remember them all but it’s ones like these that stick. My mind is telling me something quite plainly.
Tonight, forever, let’s not let fear in.
(I really do like dogs)