What happens to a plant when it gets all the sunshine and water it needs but never leaves it's original pot?
I've been realizing that my knowledge of the "things of God" has exceded my intimate experience of it's reality. At one point this was expressed in frustration and longing but lately there's been such a sadness and a numbing like hope deferred has made the heart thus sick. And I've wept, wondering why I have refused to fly.
Like the rich young fool he has beckoned me to come and I have gone away sorrowful....
Jesus, what is it that I am holding back? What have I held onto as my source of security?