Who are you?

Who i am is me; no one tells me who i am. Not my parents, not my pastor, not my friends, not strangers; who i am is between me and God.

What about you? Who defines you?
Are you a mere convergence of your parents' DNA (or are you following blind obedience to them)?
Are you a sheep who sees pastors (men) as infallible?
Do those you spend time with have the right to choose who you are?
Do the unbiased opinions of strangers hold more water than the biases of those you keep company with?
Or are you an independent person, finding out who you are in God?

Parents can teach, pastors can advise, friends can support, strangers can offer glimpses, but nobody decides who you are except you.
I'm not condoning disobedience. I'm merely stating that nobody knows what use you are to God except for God Himself. No mortal can fathom.
No preacher/spiritual adviser can tell you who you are or what you're here for, or where you're to go. They can offer support and advice, but much more is overstepping their boundaries. Parents can set up rules, but what we do in private or outside their watch is purely up to us. Friends can help us through difficult times, but they can't build us.
People try to make us into themselves, or guide us into being what they want us to be. But nobody knows your heart except you and God; why should anyone else have any say in who you are?
Only God can build us, and only if we let Him. We can find ourselves, but who are we if we don't have God . . . What have we found? A shell. Have Christ in your heart, and you will be found.

So who are you?
Do you follow people who are just as out of place in this world as you?
Or are you independent, unique, unalterable by the things in the world you live in, shaped only by your craving for meaning (read: craving for God)?

What is Love?

What is love?
More than a feeling, more than a chemical reaction, more than a craving, what is it that makes love what it is?
Anger is a feeling. There are books written about it, but not enough to fill a dozen libraries.
Grief is an emotion, too. Again, it has books written about it, but scarcely does one spend their life in search of it.
Sadness is one of the more popular emotions, but it’s not fantasized about endlessly.
Why is love set apart? Why do we seek it, sometimes our entire lives? Why does it fill our hearts and minds so that we fill countless books with tales of it? Why do we feel joy for those that experience it? How is it that it affects us by proxy so much that we can be brought to tears of happiness at imaginary scenarios involving it?

Love is a meaning. It is life.
When we seek love, we seek meaning.
When we fill pages with love, we fill them with life.

We must learn to love things with meaning, with truth, with meaning, or else our love means nothing and our pages are filled with a pointless life, and our search is never complete. We die hollow, empty, and alone.
Your love must be true.
Love truth. Delight in truth. Love wisdom. Seek wisdom. Pray for discernment. Trust in God, for God is love.

We all have multiple choices. Everything comes down to choices. But sometimes it comes down to two general choices:
1) the smooth, easy, direct path, or
2) the hard road, the one that leaves us hurt more often than not, the one that tests us and breaks us, but in our breaking down we are being built up. It's the road that teaches us how to appreciate what we have, keeps us focused enough to not want the things we don't, and it leaves us feeling fulfilled and accomplished because anyone can travel from point A to point B, but it's only the determined that take the road less traveled.

When such a choice is yours, do you take the easy, bland path, or the rough, fulfilling one?

Mouths and ears don't work at the same time. So many times i cry out for God's will to be made known, yet i won't be quiet long enough to hear Him speak.