the quiet oh moment

November 25/12  journal...

Morning Jesus... my hunger for you has grown so much in the last few days. It tastes sweet. I love that it is insatiable and knowing it. I will never reach the end of You.
   I better write down my revelation of this last week or so. There have been times where the old me tried using the usual justifications resorting to old habits. The biggest one was comparison. In not reading faithfully for instance... my mind did this dangerously quick ,well I know that so and so hasn't either ... or, well I know I am not perfect so it stands to reason... or, I am allowed to slide every now and then... hmmm  NOT. I may not be able to explain this fully but there was another immediate, just as loud, voice.
   Sorry you cannot compare yourself to another. You weren't called to that nor are you that person. Sorry you are responsible to this day's call of obedience not yesterday's. Your excuses don't apply... do they? In fact you are separate... just like I have been telling you in different layer lessons. Your approval does not rest in comparison to others. Nor in their opinion of you. I alone hold it all. Everything rests on and in Me... who you are, my acceptance of you, my love for you and how I view your actions. Stop looking through the world's glasses, I am giving you my sight don't waste any more time looking elsewhere.

   It was the strangest experience actually, feeling and seeing the hollowness of my previous thoughts and yet, a strange mixture of that affirmation of freedom in Him. However sloppily I was handling it. It was that quiet 'oh' moment... where I got something not just logically or mentally but felt it deep inside too. 

   I am here, my last moments alone today, before everyone returns. I am filled once again with a longing for You that can not be adequately described in words. A hunger of the soul that I know I can not ever get enough of. I want You Jesus. How can I express it?
    I wish I had the biggest canvas ever. like a whole wall. It would be first splashes and smears of color or emotion lines running horizontally and in one portion a collision of it all and the lines would then smear upward and downward. life and death meet... and it is beautiful. Ideally I would have done this with my hands and paint would be dripping off the wall and my arms as I reach up higher. You laugh and bring me a low scaffold so I can touch the whole canvas. I flick paint at You as You laugh and You come and grab me.