Tonight was odd because I felt closer to God then I have in the longest time. The message itself was convicting in the sense of a reminder that I have a responsibility for not just myself but for how others are treated. Being touched by the Father is in no way just a private event, it is like we are swept up and loved so that we can love others and help them to feel and see the love of Father.

I can talk about love, charity, purity of heart, sacrifice of the will, giving up oneself to the ever encompassing love of the Father...but none of it means anything unless there is a sacrifice...a trading of our selfish and worthless pride for love.

I am so absolutely sick to death of myself. My pride, my desire, my lusts, my hates, my problems, my depression, my tears, my hatred, my addictions and my self absorbed pompous asinine ways. But I have not been forgotten. I spit and rant, beginning every sentence about me...every punctuation about me.

But still I am loved. Nothing I have ever done, nothing I could do would ever make me worthy. Finding me in the worse possible way Christ reached down and wrapped his arms around me. Stepping down into the mud, the mire, the slime of this world he took on my pain as I spat in his face. The beauty of the love is matched only by the seemingly impossibility of it all.


"A cloud moves in, rain falls, thunder strikes
And sunshine breaks through the clouds
I can cry out of sorrow and joy
Every drop of rain turns into a crystal in the sun
So wash my eyes, my clothes, my skin, my bones, my soul
My feet, my love
I’m not forgotten
I’m in your thoughts cause I feel sunshine in the rain

To this day nobody moves
Nobody
Nobody moves me like You"

-Blindside, "When I Remember"

Waiting in a parking lot is not so bad, especially when you are mooching off of peoples internet so that one is able to write, like this. However, I would like access to a bathroom, so that I suppose would be the downside, if there is one.