"Express your hurt, share your pain."
So I did.
Opened up, stayed vulnerable.
That's what I did.
They welcomed me, they prayed for me.
But that was not enough.
They told me I was wanted, they showed me I was loved.
And still it was not enough.
Like a child I am kept in the dark.
And like a child my insatiable desire to know is left unquenched.
My feelings of acceptance closely tied to the expression of hidden truths.
Yes I express out of desire to be known.
But I feel betrayed when those I share with remain distant from me.
Drama unfolds around me, I remain oblivious.
Many wish they could share my pure naivete.
"How can you be so innocent in the eye of the storm?"
My friends shield me, believing they are protecting me.
Little do they know that the darkness slips through their armored walls,
Trickles past their feet.
I see it, I feel it. And I do not understand.
Do they think that by sparing me the pain of sharing their burdens,
That I can continue smiling?
How do they not see that the agony of seeing someone suffer,
Catching merely glimpses, sensing only passing moments,
Is so much greater than when they tell me the why's to their secrets -
Secrets that everyone but me seems to know.
Am I still an outsider?
Am I a fragile little one that they never want to see cry?
My parents shared with me many things.
They gave me their trust even though I didn't deserve it.
My God gave me love even though I didn't deserve it.
So why do I feel so troubled by my friends hiding things from me?
I grow weary of dancing in the masquerade.
Am I impatient for people to open up to me? Yes.
Am I eager for affection? Sure.
Do I struggle with achieving a sense of loyalty from people? Of course.
My ultimate desire is unity, oneness.
It has manifested itself in many ways -
I wanted friends, but shallow hellos and interactions was never enough.
I always needed more.
I sought a lover, but his affection was never enough.
I always wanted more.
I cultivated connections so I received different needs from different people,
But still those friendships did not sustain me.
It still lacked a depth and richness that I could not reach.
And I sought love from God. Over and over again.
He always calmed the fear, gave me comfort and hope.
Every time I received healing, I would venture out again.
But then I would always return, in pain and despair,
Crying in the arms of Jesus, begging to go Home.
And He would hold me, replenishing what I had lost.
But the same Love that renews me,
Is the Love that tells me to remain,
To reach out again.
To keep going out, keep trying.
This is His joy, this is His pain.
This Love, that desires oneness.
I do not deserve to know secrets.
It is not my place to demand to know.
But the desire remains.
And it is not wrong.
It is God's wish that we be one in His Name.
But we are imperfect humans, dwelling on a cursed world.
Anything good I receive while I live here in exile
Will never be enough.
Not until the day God's promise of finality is fulfilled.
So while I live here, this sensation of Pariah,
This longing for more,
The pain of the outcast,
Will remain.
But this need will move me forward,
To reach out to those who have yet to hear and receive the Promise.
To tell the world to cry, "We await, oh pursuing God.
Come Jesus come."
So I did.
Opened up, stayed vulnerable.
That's what I did.
They welcomed me, they prayed for me.
But that was not enough.
They told me I was wanted, they showed me I was loved.
And still it was not enough.
Like a child I am kept in the dark.
And like a child my insatiable desire to know is left unquenched.
My feelings of acceptance closely tied to the expression of hidden truths.
Yes I express out of desire to be known.
But I feel betrayed when those I share with remain distant from me.
Drama unfolds around me, I remain oblivious.
Many wish they could share my pure naivete.
"How can you be so innocent in the eye of the storm?"
My friends shield me, believing they are protecting me.
Little do they know that the darkness slips through their armored walls,
Trickles past their feet.
I see it, I feel it. And I do not understand.
Do they think that by sparing me the pain of sharing their burdens,
That I can continue smiling?
How do they not see that the agony of seeing someone suffer,
Catching merely glimpses, sensing only passing moments,
Is so much greater than when they tell me the why's to their secrets -
Secrets that everyone but me seems to know.
Am I still an outsider?
Am I a fragile little one that they never want to see cry?
My parents shared with me many things.
They gave me their trust even though I didn't deserve it.
My God gave me love even though I didn't deserve it.
So why do I feel so troubled by my friends hiding things from me?
I grow weary of dancing in the masquerade.
Am I impatient for people to open up to me? Yes.
Am I eager for affection? Sure.
Do I struggle with achieving a sense of loyalty from people? Of course.
My ultimate desire is unity, oneness.
It has manifested itself in many ways -
I wanted friends, but shallow hellos and interactions was never enough.
I always needed more.
I sought a lover, but his affection was never enough.
I always wanted more.
I cultivated connections so I received different needs from different people,
But still those friendships did not sustain me.
It still lacked a depth and richness that I could not reach.
And I sought love from God. Over and over again.
He always calmed the fear, gave me comfort and hope.
Every time I received healing, I would venture out again.
But then I would always return, in pain and despair,
Crying in the arms of Jesus, begging to go Home.
And He would hold me, replenishing what I had lost.
But the same Love that renews me,
Is the Love that tells me to remain,
To reach out again.
To keep going out, keep trying.
This is His joy, this is His pain.
This Love, that desires oneness.
I do not deserve to know secrets.
It is not my place to demand to know.
But the desire remains.
And it is not wrong.
It is God's wish that we be one in His Name.
But we are imperfect humans, dwelling on a cursed world.
Anything good I receive while I live here in exile
Will never be enough.
Not until the day God's promise of finality is fulfilled.
So while I live here, this sensation of Pariah,
This longing for more,
The pain of the outcast,
Will remain.
But this need will move me forward,
To reach out to those who have yet to hear and receive the Promise.
To tell the world to cry, "We await, oh pursuing God.
Come Jesus come."