Confessions of my heart/Letter to a friend turned blog post.

I have realized in the last few weeks that I think that I love people selflessly - in that, I give and give and give - but in reality, I'm loving people desperate for them to love me the way I love them (quite selfish if you ask me).

I constantly push and challenge the people in my life daily to be true to their passions, to be more of the person that they were created to be.
I tell my friends that they are better for the people around them when they are pursuing their passions.
Yet, still, I do not write. (This will be the most I've written in 2 weeks most probably.)

I have heard myself telling the people that I love, very simply, "I love you exactly the way that you are, but I love you enough to not let you stay that way." I've found that I am desperate to see people pursuing truth, hard truth, that pushes them to be more amazing versions of themselves.

I went to the Florida Film Festival yesterday - a friend of mine bought tickets for me - and it was incredible. I love film. I watched 4 full length films yesterday. I am so passionate about people and stories, and I get so caught up in a good story, it's magnificent.

Anyway, it's art. I think all good art (and some bad) draws you into the heart of the artist, into their brokenness and hurt, into their passion and joy. It was an emotionally draining weekend, I must say. (Art show Friday night, Film Fest Saturday, Art Fest Sunday).
I came home afterward, tears filling my eyes, and I had to face my fears.

I rarely spend time alone, because (as I realized this morning) I am afraid. I am afraid to be alone because all the things I try to hide from, the demons from which I run, catch up to me when I am alone.
I realized that I am completely terrified that no one can or will ever love me, because I do not deserve it. And much more terrifying, I simply cannot make myself believe that HE actually loves me. I'm so wretched.

There are so many more things I could say that would make these things make so much more sense (or so I think). But I'm afraid I may have already said too much, burdened you with the things that haunt my recent days.

I guess I will leave you with this, (also recent realization) I love people... I am passionate about KNOWING people. I have this desire - this aching desire - for intimacy with people; to know what makes them ache, to know what brings them joy, to know the hurt inside them that makes them live life the way that they do.

This is what drives me, and I've been so terribly burnt because the people I've met in the last two to three years (since really jumping into this journey with Jesus) do not really care to KNOW the people around them. They want people to hang out with.

People want to have fun, to be carefree and happy. (Which is beautiful, and a healthy desire when there's balance to it.) People do not want to be pushed, challenged, called out on their bullshit, or faced with hard truths.

This is why I have so few friends; because so few that I meet are willing to go so deep. I can only meet and spend time with someone so many times before I'm ready to get to KNOW them; to help bear their burdens, to help them let go of those burdens, to pursue Truth together.

This is the (selfish) love I so feebly attempt to live.

Welcome to actually knowing me.

Welcome to the beginning of knowing what I mean when I say, "Love is an Action."