This is going to sound cyriptic, and to be honest, so stereotypically bloggish that it'll probably sound corny. But I need to vent in a visual way, so I'm sorry. Somehow making it public makes me feel better about it. You can skip over this if you want.
When is holding onto a dream an act of faith, and when is it just plain being foolish? How do you determine if something is from God, or if it is just you stamping God's name on it? Why is it so hard to know? Why is it so hard to maintain a kind of pious "numbness" to everything, standing on tiptoe and never falling too far to the left or the right? What do you do when after everything seemed to serve as a confirmation, then everything comes to a halt--as if God was dangling something in your face, and just as it drew close enough for you to touch it it was gone? I know God doesn't tease us. I know He isn't try to drive me insane. But His silence, this confusion, not knowing what is going on and not knowing how to react and what to hope for--it drives me insane sometimes. I want to love Jesus more, regardless of whether He calls me to lay Issac on the alter and drop the knife, or to ready myself knife in hand until He tells me "enough, this is for you to keep."
