I give my life away to everyone so that when it comes time to have my own life, I don't have any left and all I want to do disappear into the wilderness and build a secret cabin. Leave me alone, I keep saying to myself, but I end up being too nice because life is too short and I don't get to love enough people like I pictured in my head. If I was totally selfish and didn't have the perception that I do, or the heart that God gave me, I'd be skinny, rich, famous, and forsake all the pangs that I roll through to each week just to be around and make sure everyone else is taken care of.
This is all of course only to the Glory of God alone. Apart from him, I'm kidding myself. I have nothing, am nothing, and amount to nothing. He has clothed the lilies of the valley, and feeds the sparrows, and so it remains with me that all I do and have and think and know is because he's so very fiercely gracious, and terribly loving.
And I still get a pit in my stomach thinking that he doesn't convict me of all my sin at once.
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