You don't know me. You don't know what my fears truly are- no more than you know my hopes or dreams. I would never risk telling you. You may think you know. You may think you have me all figured out but I live alone behind the door to me. The security system is in working order. You can come up to the door and look through the windows but the deadbolt is going to remain in place. No robin will come show you the hidden entrance to my secret garden. No amount of loyalty, no amount of steadfast love and acceptance will trick me into letting you in. But you won't know that. You will think that you are the exception to my rule. I want you to feel that way. I want to give you a sense of safety and calm. Solidarity. We are two peas in a pod, except that you don't really know me.
You shouldn't be offended by my telling you this. I treat God the same way. It doesn't work with Him either, but I keep deluding myself just the same. He knows when I rise and when I slumber. He knows my thoughts before they are known to me. But I try to fool Him just like I try to fool myself. I pretend I do not need the intimacy my soul longs for. I do know I need to be known but I do not want someone on the inside of my walls, then we'd both be trapped here.
A woman at bible study said it has been hard for her to make her way in to a circle of friends. She said coming into a small town of people who have all known one another for years is difficult. Three years later she still feels like an outsider. I wanted to hug her and say "It's been six for me" but unlike her I saw it as my accomplishment.
Sneaky God. Revealing my sins this way. Clever, sneaky God.