Exchanging the beauty of truth for something shiny

Maybe I got overly excited about something that ain't gonna happen any time soon, and really, the promise, the call was meant for sooner than that.  Or maybe I am an impatient fool.  Oh I've got it, the things in front of my face are the those things. 

Quiet yourself, this already hurt me; sometimes, to heal a wound you've got to get stuck in the arm with a flippin huge needle.  

I am blind and I can not see.  I don't even remember the times when I repeat my self.  The times I am redundant.  How many times do I need to fall down before I know what it means to just be carried.  I can't see if what I see is the hope that I had, or if what I see is a foreshadowing.  I get worried sometimes about the prophet God asked to marry a prostitute.  God increased his burden of love for her with every unfaithfulness.  I wonder sometimes if I am the prophet, or the prostitute.  Am I forsaking things I should embrace?  Or do I try to make up the mind of God, like Abraham and Sarah decide that what God really meant by a son was Abraham having a kid with the help.  Does God mean X and I am trying for Y just because I don't have a big enough view?

All I can think of is to pray that God would make his plans for me irresistible.

Thy will

be

done