Bittersweet

Sundays are bittersweet. Worshiping the Lord is one of the most incredible things we get to experience here on earth. My whole body is consumed by His love and for a brief time I forget about myself, and all the things that fade, and I'm in the presence of Glory. It truly is magical. The muddy waters my mind normally travels through become clear and I see how it suppose to be. My body responds almost without thought and all of me feels propelled to a place of complete surrender. I realize then how much I miss Him and want to be with Him and how no other place even compares. I wish each week that church wouldn't end and I could just be frozen there in His presence, but week after week the message comes and the service ends and I'm forced back into this world.  I come home to my empty house and I am just sad. I'm lonely for home. I'm weary of struggle, evil and the distance that my humanity creates. In my last entry I talked about how I once thought God wasn't enough, but the truth is that nothing else is enough and I can't have Him the way I want Him. I want Him the way He created me to want Him...always and without ceasing. Sometimes I am convinced my greatest wish is to be able to let  all that is... me....go. In the christian "ease" it's called dying to self. It so hard to die to yourself. I just want to be killed. As ridiculous as it sounds, i laugh through my tears because I realize how crazy it is to say. I just have this ache, and the only way I can describe it is a broken heart. I want heaven. I see now how Mary broke the bottle of perfume over Jesus' feet and wiped it with her hair. She looked as silly as I feel I'm sure, but girls in love act silly and say strange things. I pray that I would resist the urge to find solice in compromise and perserverance to hold on to what for sure will be.