Confession of Fear

I fear what I may know.

This is what holds me back. I've given You all of myself that I can. I can only give to You what I have, and I don't have all of myself. But my giving isn't really about You having. You can have any-and-everything. It's all Yours already. Giving is about my willing participation. It would make us partners in crime - or at least make me an accomplice - if it weren't for the fact that it's all Yours anyway. Giving and receiving creates reciprocity, hospitality. And it matters that I do this. Everything is Yours, and so those things need to exist so that they can be Yours, as well.

I want to tell You that, if you open the doors for me to get those last bits of myself, I will give them to You. But the fear! And the fear is such that...how could I know whether or not those doors have already been opened?

Reason and logic are important. I cannot be one to say they have no place in spirituality. I think there are dangers to leaving them out, and so many more blessings possible when they are used. But the things I think some part of me knows laugh at reaaon and logic, turn away and ignore them. And I fear becoming "one of those practitioners". And I fear finding out I'm wrong.

How do I turn away from knowing with no doubt that some parts just can't be true when those things weave so closely with parts I try not to think might be true? I read of the cults of antiquity. I think of the modern meaning of "cult". I fear being seen as the modern kind, but feel I've been called all my life to be the ancient kind.

There is something bigger. Something more real than most people ever imagine. Perhaps they are unable to imagine it. Those that do tend to not be seen as sane afterwards, if they were before. Not because they saw it, but because of what seeing it did to them.

So I hold that part of myself back. I lock it away and do not let myself know where the key is. And I might need Your help, because I think it may be time to let that part of myself free...and I fear that.