Lately, I've sort of been busy waiting for God to tell me what's next. Or maybe I've been busy telling Him what I'd like to be next (Earthship on a little plot of land, Masters in vocational or school counseling, light-weight Franc, and maybe a trip overseas. Thanks, God, for asking!)
I've been getting impatient. And restless. And grouchy. My bad.
If you want to know how real you are, test yourself by these words - "Come unto Me." In every degree in which you are not real, you will dispute rather than come, you will quibble rather than come, you will go through sorrow rather than come, you will do anything rather than come the last lap of unutterable foolishness - "Just as I am." As long as you have the tiniest bit of spiritual impertinence, it will always reveal itself in the fact that you are expecting God to tell you to do a big thing, and all He is telling you to do is to "come."