and then, finally

because you compare yourself with the rest of them. that's why jealousy grows like some tempestuous weed inside you. 

and you don't know if that big word even makes sense in the sentence but it seems cowardly to backspace it. 

because you look at yourself in the mirror and you see a dirty face and ugliness. 

you could be beautiful 

you could be ugly and do great things 

you could be alone 

you could be in love 

and you can find security in your beauty, 

or in your greatness, 

or in your relationships. 

and you can find no security in your beauty,

and in your greatness,

and in your relationships. 

and then you look into the sky and into the Bible and through stained glass windows. 

you can find security in what you believe 

and in the things that you do 

and in the places you live 

and in your prayers and everything. 

i confuse knowing my identity in Jesus with finding my identity in my religion. 

i can't help but realise that the person of Jesus isn't religious, that the freedom words in Galatians say that neither my most conscientious religion not disregard of religion amounts to anything. That what matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love. 

this ridiculous jealousy gnaws at too many places, wraps right round me. i need this boy to love me, to be single-mindedly devoted to me,

and Papa is at this cross, breaking the curtain, this tearing down of the veil, this tearing down that makes turning in us, of us, re-turning, home. 

to be single-mindedly devoted to Him? to be so, so, so certain of His love for me? to be so, so, so certain of His love for me that I don't need this boy to love me? that i don't need his single-minded devotion? to be so, so, so certain of His love for me that i am entirely secure and at rest in Jesus. 

to be so, so, so, so certain of how deep and real and incredibly extravagantly and fully certainly Jesus loves me that... I don't need any more love. I don't need anymore anything. 

That...  when I was knowing and experiencing such love in this: Christ sacrificing his life for us, I would be constantly, continually, longingly... loving this boy out of the deep, secure, satisfying love of Jesus that always grows and never fades.