Oh, Father, I see your hand in my life daily, but how I wish to see your face. The spirits are in awe of your glory, and my heart skips a beat when I think of the inevitable. Will I be reprimanded for my sinful nature? I have experienced your power to change my heart, and I have experienced Adam’s sin, which drags me away from you. One of peace and the other of lust!
The world is wicked, and my brothers and sisters are few. I so long for the ones who can see you the way that you have shown to me. My heart pains, and I am angry. You are hated, but why? You are misunderstood and rejected. This question was on my heart for such a long time, and you answered it. How can I understand heavenly things when the borders of the earth bind my mind. You are only interested in those refined by the fire and glorify you in obedience.
You never fail me. You have given me more than I could have imagined. You opened the windows of heaven. Why? For only keeping your commands? I feel inadequate for my pitiful attempt at honouring your Word, and yet you give me more. My heart trembles — I tremble. Should I get these earthly benefits and lose the war? The treasures I desire are those in heaven. I want to work for you, and I can feel your hand guiding me, but I feel that what I do for you is not enough.
You have sabotaged my idiotic plans; you have tempered my steps and guided my pen. You have given me an incredible family and a genuine friend. You have strengthened my spirit, my heart and my hand. You have given me an understanding of the enormity of the battle that rages — a smoke fill swirl of heat and ash with stripped bones embracing destruction in every corner of the earth — lawless. I have seen the delusion and soul-binding grip of religion, vanity and money. You have shown me that completeness is not without you and that many will be lost. It was almost overwhelming, but you held me together. The torment will extend to some close to me — they are stubborn and lazy. They will die a proverbial 5th death. I stare into the abyss with tears dripping in the water-filled glass, watching them try to save me into their religion of ignorance and skewed vision.
The sinful anger me, and I want them to suffer for mocking your name. They disrespect and judge you from a perspective of ignorance. With closed eyes, they ridicule. Am I wrong for wishing that they suffer the pain that will eventually come to many? Should I pray for them? Should I want their destruction for what they have done? What about those who exhort the letter of your name in blasphemous ignorance — should I cry or rejoice at their destruction? What can I say to them to get them to see that the world in everything it does agrees not to keep your commandments?
I wish you would speak to me face to face. I know that I am not as righteous as Ezra or any of your prophets, and I don’t deserve it, but I wish you would anyway. I implore you to let me be a prize that will stand tall for you even in the darkest days, either alone or, better yet, with your family standing right beside me.