something real.

I am not in a highly emotional state, in fact, though I am weakened and feeble, I must and will contemplate-

I'm not sure I've ever felt a love in this exact sense. There have been the few times where I've been close to leaving this life for good, and I felt him near to me as never before. He held me, and told me to take heart, because he had overcome the world. And now I feel him again-this man who all my life had watched me grow, and waited patiently for the day that I would open my eyes and see him there, and open my heart to him. It's been hard most of the time. I'll never understand why, but for some reason I've always preferred another man-even though I could feel him with me still- watching me longingly from a distance somewhere. Even when I moved with the other in the dark, where there was no light to be found and I was sleeping with the lie, I could hear him in my head-saying come, come take what I have to give-you don't have to offer me your body-I will love you for free, and I'll never leave you. All these other men promise the same, but they all go. They take you and leave you there alone. They touch your skin with a seduction despair. But I never have forced my love on you, because, see, my love doesn't do that. I cared so intimately and deeply for you that I could not bare to have you without your consent. I'd give anything to have you seek me. I'd even do this-when my son was born to me, I made it my will to crush him. It is the hardest thing one could ever do-to turn your face on your own child-but see Diana, that is how much I would give to have you near me. I grieve each day you run away. My heart burns and aches unending as I witness how you give yourself to these things...these books with ideas that leave you empty, these men that leave you broken, these knifes that leave you bruised...all of these things you hide behind. But why? What are you afraid of? That you will find the light I have hidden inside you? I want to be your Abba, I want to protect you like a Father. I am here, I am here always. I have written for you that when my son died, he saw his offspring-that's you. As he hung there, and as he felt every hopeless and degraded woe you have ever imagined-he saw your face, your tears and your cries-and he did it for you.

I hear this man-this beautiful man who's never, ever hit me, or stolen things from me, or left me alone-this beautiful man...saying these things, to me. The best musician I could ever desire. The most vivid creator. The brightest intellectual. The greatest mind one could ever, or ever not, imagine. This beautiful person wants to have me fall in love with Him. I don't know if I could do it...I'm so used to my habits and my sodden distractions here, who knows what could happen if I lifted my eyes and gave it all to Him? It's terrifying...but truly, something deep down is struggling to reach the surface. This vulnerability, this disappointed and disenchanted soul, something saves me. Something reaches down where I cannot breathe and gives me life.

I will lift my eyes up.
I will trust it.

"For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed,
but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,
and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,' says the LORD.
'Oh afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted,
behold, I will set your stones in antimony,
and lay your foundations with sapphires...
In righteousness you shall be established;
you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear,
and from terror, for it shall not come near you."
Isaiah 54:10-11, 14