Last Exit Before Oblivion

Writing stirs the pot. Things safely stratified start moving around, changing the balance. My usual reaction is self-judgment: It's my fault for stirring things up. I should know enough by now to let well enough alone.
    The bars may be gone but the cage still rules in memory. I tend to become angry. When will I ever be free of this stuff? But leaving it lying on the bottom of the pot doesn't change anything. Any upset, internal or external, can affect me far beyond the assumed cause.
    I begin to question myself. What kind of person am I for needing God's presence in my life? I need him to stop the self-judgment. Where is self-respect in that? Given all the untrustworthy counsel I see every day, what can I do but judge for myself? And yet, that way lies... more lies.
    I was thinking about self-respect last night, after a day of just trying to dodge meteors. Clearly the old standards don't apply: I'm no longer alone. Yikes. Perhaps value comes from... but it's interesting that the question doesn't even come up when I'm close to God. Thoughts like this are a sure sign that I'm hiding somewhere in the garden, hoping God will overlook me.
    It's rather sad. I think God values each of us so much that he doesn't even think about value. No matter what it takes, he will do what he is allowed to do. The sad part is that it's so easy for me to start closing the door in his face.
    One step up, a couple of steps sideways, three steps back, turn around and go backwards. Another step up, then a time of cowering in fear. A few more tiny steps, and then panic and backing. God has seen it all.
    Still, guidance is an interesting question. There are many voices out there, each of them purporting to be connected directly to God, and all of them say something different. Some of them are positively odious, preaching hatred. Do I trust my intellect to separate truth from fiction? There are obvious problems with that. The answer seems to be to cling ever closer to God Himself, so that I'll hear the alarm when he sounds it.
    I suspect that what really has me bugged right now is that the direction freedom follows aims toward love. Talk about unknown territory... maybe it's time to panic again.

2012 July 29