Who am I to seek your counsel or desire your knowledge? I humble myself, for I am a man. I will question you, and perhaps you will answer me.

Who am I, and why did you create me? Why do you love me, and why did you die for my sins? Why do I feel so far from you? Is it my fault? Is it my sin or my guilt? My business or my pride or my faithlessness? Is it because of my imperfect motives or my pathetic prayers that you refuse me? Do I seek what I should not seek, or do I ask too little? Am I too impatient, or too complacent? If you told me what I must do, would I not do it? If you gave me one word - even a word of great sorrow - would I not cling to it and treasure it, forsaking all else for your sake? Am I not willing to carry that cross or drink that cup, or am I not ready? Will you make me willing? Will you answer my prayers?

Do you know me? Did you knit me together in my mother's womb? Have you numbered my hairs? Do you know my cares? Have you probed the very depths of my soul? Have you seen behind my masks? Do you know all of my weakness and shame? Do you understand my motives? Do you know my love and my self-love? Do you know my earnesty and my flippancy? Do you know my passion and my hypocrisy? Do you know who I am, and what I could become? Do you know me?

Do you love me? Did you die for my sins? Did you endure such an abomination for my sake? Did you face the whippings and the spittings, the hate and the pain, the nakedness and the shame and the agony of death for me? Were you separated from your father, and did you endure such things as I cannot imagine just for the hope of relationship with me? Do you love me in my weakness? Do you weep when I din? Do you rejoice in my hopings and trustings? Do you long for me? Do you ache for my fellowship? Do you love me?

Will you free me? Will you break these chains? Will you tear away these dragon-scales I've grown? Will you burn me with your fire? Will you sear away my sinfulness? Will you rip and crush, scrape, break and remake? Will you smite this festering, cancerous godlessness that infests my soul? Will you be zealous? Will you be tender, but unrelenting? Will you not be satisfied with my imperfection? Will you transform me? Will you restore my mauled and disfigured soul at whatever cost, by whatever means? Will you make my one desire the seeking of your glory? Do you see amid the greed and grief of my soul the beginnings of that desire? Will you free me?

Will you start today?

This post is based loosely on Job 38-39, in which God responds to Job's complaints with a series of rhetorical questions about himself, with the answer to each being no. Finding myself in a similar situation (qualitatively, not quantitatively) to Job, I had the idea of writing a response in a similar style, using (primarily) rhetorical questions about God, with the response to each being yes. I really like this post.