This is me being honest.
I decide to match donations to Cure up to $3,000 for my birthday. And while people thought I had faith--I honestly didn't really. I figured that I could come up with half and I knew my parents would probably donate a huge chunk at the end. I calculated and figured it out.
And then I'm sitting at work yesterday and I feel like I'm suppose to donate $10,000 dollars. I write up a thing, and then convince myself out of it.
Tonight talk with my mom and decide I'm going to do it--but feel like I should give $3,000 to four different organizations and so I figure out, CURE, Rise up, Children's Hunger Fund, and Show Hope. And then, I remember Casa de Gozo. And I try and figure out how I can divide up $12,000 by five and I hear a whisper, "I want it all..." And I hesitate for a moment because 15,000 is all I have in the bank. It gives me no margin. It's all the money that I have and I wanted to keep some, because I feel as if it is mine. "I earned it-I worked hard for it, it's mine" the little person inside me whispers.
But this God I love, He is jealous for me and He wants my whole heart. He is not safe for He is raging and wild, terrible and beautiful, holy and laughing, box breaking and earth shattering, but oh He's good. My Jesus, He's so so good.
And I want Him so bad, I can feel it aching in my bones.
And forget the fact I'm not promised tomorrow, I'm not promised the next moment. I could die right here. My heart could beat for a last time, my hands stop this clicking of keys, and I could exhale for the final time.
And I don't want treasure here.
I haven't done this sooner because honestly I was scared. Terrified.
I like plans. Safe plans. Comfortable plans. Plans that involve retirement and having a nicely padded savings account. Plans that wrap me in a wonderfully soft blanket of false security.
Fear of the unknown sinks her talons deep within my soul whispering that I can't do this, it's irresponsible and stupid.
These demons that hunt and stalk me--they know my weaknesses.
They know how much I covet and cherish people's opinion and they whisper until the fear paralyzes me.
"They will laugh at me, they will think I'm stupid, they will think I'm being ridiculous and crazy and then...", and my thoughts spiral out of control and I am incapacitated and am unable to do anything.
I cling to the things I know to be true, like a man in the middle of a furious rolling ocean clings to a raft.
And these are the things I know to be true.
I am loved and this is worth it.
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