I'm Probably High

Do you ever wake up in the morning and just think, "Man...how did I get here?"

No. I don't mean like, I was drunk and blacked out and ended up somewhere totally random and unexpected.

Although, if that's you...well...I'm sorry. That's awkward.

:)

Okay, but seriously. Don't you ever have days when you wake up and literally have no idea how you got to the place you are? I wake up and wonder how things got this way. How did I become this person I am now with these thoughts that I have and how in the WORLD did I get in this situation?

Even weirder than that - do you ever stop and wonder how you got on EARTH? (Do I sound high?)

I mean, I get that whole thing about how I physically got here - the stork brought me. K. But how did EVERYTHING get here? How do we have such intense and intricate thoughts and feelings? How are our emotions so tied into our physical senses? How can we communicate with such detail and effectiveness?

Folks, there is a God.

There's someone who had to have made this happen. I mean, I can't fathom any other possibility. Science cannot even come close to explain the complexity of HOW a lump of mass in your skull can produce unique ideas and thoughts. That doesn't "just happen." That's not some cosmic accident.

We were created.

Okay, I don't know what you think about that....but it freaks me out. I mean, it's also kind of comforting. But I just wonder where my creator has gone. Is it true that I was created for fellowship with this God but mankind's sin has separated me from that?

Or have I just been abandoned?

I legitimately don't know the answers. I don't understand how I'm supposed to find out.

But something deep within me whispers that my creator has not forsaken me. Something way down inside insists that I still have a purpose and it still involves my maker.

God, show me who you are.

Maker of my heart and my brain and my spirit and all that lives around me, make yourself known to me.

Open my blind eyes and please forgive me for being so stubborn and only believing what I want to believe. I'm sorry that we've become so confused and selfish and hateful. I look around and see so much pure and untampered beauty and I can't help but think that the world was created to be much better than what it is now. I see glimpses of perfection and can't help but imagine that perfection is what once marked every created thing.

But my eyes are cloudy and my heart is heavy. The world entices me in its momentary afflictions and empty promises and I forget to think about the possibility that maybe I could be missing the whole point.

Creator, show me my point. What do you want me to do? Who would you like me to be?

How can I know you?

Please, oh please - tell us how you love us.