There it is again. It hits you in the middle of the day. That feeling that you don’t belong. That undeniable sensation that this a play — and you are just a bit actor.
They might find me out. That I am an imposter.
In our heart of hearts, we do not want to be left alone, without a God. We don’t the crowds to see that we have been faking this confidence our entire lives.
Having looked everywhere else for meaning, the supernatural world is the only venue left. I can take the mask off.
For the millions who continue to wander around the abyss, cut from any sense of meaning, we can only pity and pray for them. They have an answer for their loneliness. Yet, because of their hard hearts, they choose isolation over God
Martin Luther simply stated “Bless us, O. Lord, yea, even curse us — but please be not silent.”
We desperately need the strength of an infinite God who knows us better than we know ourselves.