heart-wrenching road

Abraham led Isaac to the altar, his heart cracked, a blood trail marking their path. 

He tied him there and the boulder between him and the Father, Son and Spirit broke into pieces. Untie your son, they said, and Abraham took his son and embraced him, and the Trinity swept them into their dance, their unity unbroken, unmasked and unashamed. 

I ask Them now, have me bring to You whatever is between us, inwardly begging it not to hurt as much as the times before. Have me bring it to the altar. 

Opening to a Psalm, it breaks as a gentle wave: Bring your doubt. 

Put all your hope in Me -- bring your doubt to the altar. 

Unwillingly, I'd given up the Boy. 
I'd received him back off the altar. Heart surrendered to this God, this Trinity, this Lover. 

Praying this continual surrender, desperately avoiding holding anything in order to escape the terror and pain of tying to the altar what your heart loves. 

Bring yourself. 

Jealousy. Making an enemy out of someone who I believe has something I don't have, that I need to have in order to be worthy of being loved.  

Insecurity. Where I stand with people. Doubting whether I really belong. Longing to ascertain a place.  Doing whatever I can to have this place, even if it means excluding others. 

Anxiety. Keeping my eyes locked on the next moment and fearing it, fearing what I will face in the next moment. Fearing what I might lose. Self-focused and self-conscious. 

Fear. The belief that nothing is understood and everything is a big, hazy question without certainty, security or hope. 

Bitterness. The thing that eats me up inside, expressing itself through agitation and gritted teeth. Comes from believing that I or somebody else have been robbed of something or treated unjustly. 

Anger. Often not based on anything deep, but rather an emotional reaction to a particular comment. Tends to express itself through wild hand movements or yelling. 

This is what I'm bringing today,

what's wrapped itself tight round this heart made to worship this God, this Trinity -- 

myself,

wounded and begging. 

Bring your doubt -- bring yourself. 

It's always a risk. A heart-breaking trek to the altar, 

because it's always death on the altar. 

Or is it? 

I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. {Galatians 2:20}