He tells me, "set the record straight."
I ask Him, "what record needs straightening?"
He says, "Who you are."
"It's much more interesting to tell them about who I've found you to be," I tell Him.
He says, "I appreciate that, but who are you?"
Well, uh, ummm, I'm me. I'm..I'm...Ronda. Helloooooo.
"Who are you?"
I'm your child. I'm your daughter. I'm your kid.
This is getting hard, Lord. I'm not comfortable doing this. People read this you know. Strangers, family, friends.
"Who are you?"
"I know. But who are you?"
I'm confused. You know WHO I am. You're God.
"I know who I am. The I AM knows who I am. Who are you?'
Can I tell you who I am without you?
"That's a start."
Ok. Without you, I am lost. Without you, I am nothing. Without you, I'm a mess. Without you, I'm a little girl running around crying and looking for someone to help me. Standing alone, lost in a crowd, waiting for someone to take me by the hand and tell me it's going to be ok. Without you, I'm alone. Without you, I'm wondering what my purpose here on earth is. Without you, I wonder why you don't make this world better. Without you, I am fearful and filled with silent anxiety that rests on my hips and my gut. Without you, I am disheartened and defeated. Without you, I look at the world and wonder if there really is a god. Without you, I am living for myself, swallowed up in pride and self-sufficiency but always afraid to make a mistake.
There. That's who I am, without you.
Isn't that enough?
"Who are you?'
Haven't I said enough?
I'm me. A mess. A girl in a woman's body, just waiting and looking forward to the day I will be forever free of the things that try to harass and discourage me.
What else is there to know? No one needs to know my business.
"How do you know what someone needs to know?"
I don't want to know my business most of the time, why do I need to blab it to the cybersphere?!
"Because you were once waiting for someone like you to come along and tell you it will be ok."
I have fears, I have griefs, I have regrets, I have pains and emotions that try and overwhelm me, but you are the only One who can take them away. And you never get tired of taking away the same things over and over again that I keep taking back from your hands.
I bug you a thousand times a day in a thousand different ways for the same things everyday.
"It never gets old."
I get sick of myself.
"I never get sick of you."
I know you don't. How do you not?
"That's not your business to know."
"Who else are you?"
Well, I just had a birthday and lots of people said lots of nice things, but none of it is me, but you. Whatever they see in me that's good, only comes from you, because I'm none of the things people think I am without you.
"So are the people who are reading this right now. They are mine too."
I know, Lord.
I hope they know it too. And I hope they know....It's going to be ok.