Over and over I try to write this blog post, but nothing comes out right and I can't seem to say what I mean. If it doesn't make any sense, it's because all I can hear is the sound of my own heartbeat pounding against my eardrums and I feel like I'm stuck inside my own head again, exhausted with struggling and lack of sleep. I'm tired of the sound of my own voice but still I'm talking, complaining, crying out every day, all the time.
There's one word I say more than any other, and it's Sorry.
Sing a song, but don't believe... Blasphemy is more than open rejection, more than blatant defamation. Blasphemy is when I tell God, in the silence of my thoughts and actions, that I do not believe He is who He says He is. Blasphemy is when I, a wayward Israelite, tell God that I would rather go back into slavery than trust Him to bring me safely into the Promised Land. Blasphemy is when I lie awake at night with my stomach churning and mind reeling, angry that I don't get to call the shots in my own life.
And I just keep saying Sorry, praying that He takes me back every time, because I want to be alive when I see His face.
Reflections on Numbers 13 & 14.