It's one in the morning and I'm at the altar.

Not even wasting my time with kneeling, I pretty much went straight to laying down.

I don't often have the opportunity to come here, usually being stuck where I am on Sundays by one of my many obligations.

(Which, side note, turns out is for the best because it's not actually possible for me to kneel there without partially mooning the congregation area...)

I had to come to the church to drop something off, but as I walked past the altar I knew that was why I was really here.

I laid there, holding the cross, trying (with varied success) to remind myself that I don't have to be lonely,
I don't have to feel unloved or unworthy,
I don't have to worry about tomorrow,
and I don't have to feel ashamed.

As with all of my times at the altar, I don't feel a presence of God (though I have at other times and places).

I don't feel much of anything actually.

I don't feel the weight of my worry,
my fear,
my confusion,
my doubt,
or the whispers of lies that so easily distract.

I can't even think straight; I'm so unaccustomed to so much silence in my head!

I wouldn't describe what I feel as peace, but it's certainly something "other" than the feelings that brought me to the altar in the first place.

I never know quite what to make of this "other" feeling...

For today, I will accept it as an opportunity to refocus on the Truth -- after finally having the lies lose their roots -- and to praise the one who paid my debt.

Life sure would suck without Him tonight.

                                   

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