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Superhero

Rain fall

Opened my door so that I could hear the rain. It's chilly, but it's more important for me to hear it. I need its constancy, its comfort—things are as they have ever been, and tomorrow will be yet another day, no more broken or irredeemable than yesterday. My Abba loves me and is working all things for my good, regardless of what I feel now. The sound of raindrops on tin is the same, the same as it ever was.

Nothing's as personal as I make it. I'm not sure if that's better or worse.

Stayed in rather than attending the Whiskey Smoke at John's tonight. Just couldn't bring myself to be "on" that long, knowing that tomorrow is also filled until bedtime. Sometimes I wonder if my self with groups is an act, if I fool them all, then quietly resent them for being fooled. If someone really does see, that's when I'm really in trouble. Because that's when I actually care. And that's just not safe.

I'm OK. I just don't want things to be as hard as they are sometimes. I'm tired of the hurt.

Comments

It's certainly not safe. That's very true. Maybe it shouldn't be. But you want to feel like it can be.
I just make things harder than they need to be, I think. I give up when I should press on and I hold on when I should let go.
me too. we're slow learners.
I'm glad we aren't finished yet.
*hug*
One of the things I LOVE about our house is hearing the rain on the roof at night, or on the windows downstairs during the day. I almost wish I understood the comfort that comes from that noise.
Since I'm in a basement apartment, I shouldn't have a roof. But my entry has a salvaged tin roof overhang, which is perfect.
That works too!
I just don't want things to be as hard as they are sometimes. I'm tired of the hurt.

Holy crap--do I relate.
Also--I am very proud of myself right now, I finally figured out how to do italics on comments! I need the "go you!" icon for this! But how do I make it stop? Ah--read the FAQ, and there was the answer. Why didn't I figure this out months ago?
Also--thanks for being such a good host to us--if it was an effort, I understand, but you made it look easy. I will maybe definitely be back on Sunday.
It was a joy meeting and hosting you both. I'm hoping that "maybe definitely" turns into "definitely"!
I'm sorry, but you don't know me. I hope I'm not invading your space by leaving this comment. I was passing by and I happened upon your entry. I can't help but relate to how you're feeling and I agree that there is something about the sound of rain that brings a sense of comfort. I hope you feel better. Again, sorry for invading your space.
Thanks for your comment; you're very much welcome here anytime!
My Abba loves me and is working all things for my good, regardless of what I feel now.

This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.

:o]
My bed is right next to the celing so it sounds like it's nearly hitting my head when I go to sleep. I have a bedroom but I don't sleep there because the loft is way to tempting and if I sleep there all the time I'm sure to never miss the rain.

Do you notice when others are hidding their pain?
Lofts are wonderful.

Yes, I definitely notice.
Do you say anything?

I sometimes get pissed off at people who notice. Especially when I really am trying to hide. You are a rare breed. I have meet very few of you in my life. I hope you consider, your ablilty to notice, a gift.
I usually won't in a group; sometimes in private.

It's a gift, without question. Sometimes I've been a good steward of it; sometimes I haven't. But I won't pretend it doesn't have a cost. It can be draining and put me in positions when honestly, ignorance would be more comfortable. Combine that with my own insecurities and it makes being with people a real mixed bag.

I think lots of gifts are like that, though, and there's the temptation to turn them inward rather than outward to the good of the Body (which is the intention for our gifts). That temptation leads to real darkness and sin.
Sometimes I wonder if my self with groups is an act, if I fool them all, then quietly resent them for being fooled. If someone really does see, that's when I'm really in trouble. Because that's when I actually care. And that's just not safe.

Fortunately for me, no one sees. Or if they do, they are too polite to say so.
That's where I'm a double-minded man. There are parts of me I very much want to keep hidden and control access to, which is healthy in proper measure. And yet, even as I hide, I know I resent people for falling for the counterfeit, the mask. It also breeds contempt—are they really so foolish?

In a way, it's similar to a childhood game of hide and seek: the hiding stops being fun when you realize you've done such a good job that no one is searching for you. And the few times I've really been found, my playmates have either left the playground or told me they don't want to play with me anymore.
At that point it's no longer a game.

I too am double-minded. I think it'd be cleaner just to hide so well that no one would ever find me again. But I just can't do it. Another voice within me cries out against it.
But I just can't do it. Another voice within me cries out against it. I thank God for that voice in myself (and others) that will not allow me to totally be hidden/deadened.