Barneyisfat

I have realized that I'm not ready for love. I realize that I am at this time too imature to even consider a long term relationship with a girl. I think more importantly that until I can love "the lease of these" as my self, how can I expect to be able to love anyone more than myself for the rest of my life.

I see with a lot of my friends that when a woman comes into the picture friends take a secondary role. I have also realized that the love they previously would have invested in the fringe of this world - the poor, the broken, the hurt - is now being invested, instead, in their girlfriend.

I realize that I don't love people enough. I still have people who I refer to as crazy, there are people who smell too bad for me to allow them to ride in my car, there are people who annoy me enough that I can't eat a meal with them, I can't offer a young black mother with groceries for the week, I can't befriend gay people because I am too afraid of being labeled with them, I am afraid to talk to strangers and sometimes even people in church. I realize that I love my own life too much.

I know that I am a saved Christian, and that compared to most earthly standards of goodness I stack up pretty well. But, I am concerned not about the world's standards, but, rather, God's standard. It is all too easy for me to compare myself to other Christians - but, when I compare myself to Christ I realize that I fall short.

A friend of mine used to be suicidal. He told me recently that since he has become a Christian he has noticed the greatest irony ever - for so long he wanted nothing to do with his life, and now that he is commanded to "die daily" to himself and instead live in Christ he finds that he often holds onto his life instead.

I'm holding on to life still. My friends still hold on to life. Why do we do this? I'm so sick and tired of Christians who know the Bible. My friends here know almost every word of the Bible, and yet they still miss the point. I love them, but I realize that we are all missing the point so often.

Isn't it ironic that love can get in the way of love. It is almost like in Little House on the Prairie when there were forest fires and Laura's family lit the crops near the house on fire. They burned everything near their house, and the fire that was looming had no fuel to make it to the house. They lost all of their crop, but they all survived. We all too often burn the fuel around our heart in meaningless relationships, but if we would instead let the fire consume us, with no control on our part - I think that's what it means to die to ourselves. I have decided not to pursue love, but to rather allow the author of all love to consume me.