abiding

I think my problem, among the plethora of ones I possess, is that I want God to swoop down and fix everything. It's like I have a broken toy and I'm crying and crying and crying for it to be fixed. Maybe I have to be patient. Maybe I'm supposed to move on to other things. Or maybe, being the loving Daddy/jealous Husband He is, He wants me to, before I do anything else, come and sit with Him, even if it's just to sit and cry in His bosom. I think that's what He wants more than anything else. And that is what I want, too. Now, that is. I want that now, it's not always been what I wanted, especially not right now, not in these circumstances. Maybe I've been scared to sit there because He would make me fix it. Or maybe I've been scared He'll let me tell my problems and pat me on my head and send me on my way with a task I feel I am incapable to complete. Or maybe I've been scared to go and find He's angry because it's all my fault: I broke the toy in the first place. But He's not like that. I know He's not. I know He's not. I know He's not. I repeat it for my edification as well as yours. Why I insist on tearing myself from the bosom of Christ, why I would rather believe the voices of all the lions of hell than that Great Lamb, why I keep being deceived that there's something I'm missing apart from Christ, I'll never know, but this I do: that bosom is the place I long for and it's the place I wrestle to remain. Maybe this struggle is what Jesus was talking about when He said "Abide in me."