Yesterday I tore out the rotten floor out of my boat. It was covered by carpet that was not quite as rotten that masked the seriousness of the problem. The underlying plywood was more weak than cardboard in some ways. Much of it literally fell apart in my hands as I pulled it out in wet chunks. The fiberglass hull seems strong enough but I am not completely sure about the 2X4 ribs longwise. They are mostly covered with fiberglass in areas but still appear quite wet. I also have serious doubts about having enough room to install a gas tank under the planned new floor. At this point I am not quite sure what I should do.

Amazingly, my soul feels strikingly much the same condition as my boat on the very same day. The enormity and extent of the hidden rottenness is only beginning to be uncovered as the masking layers are carefully peeled away. My carpet, designed for comfort and acceptable appearance, looks in much better shape than the infrastructure of false gods and images beneath though it too has some noticeable holes in it.

Last night it was revealed to us that not only much of my childhood was filled with shame messages but many of the events surrounding the beginning of my marriage were immersed in shame as well. The very night we got engaged we suffered a blasting shame message from my step-mom supported by my dad. We were accused of all manner of immoral motives and humiliating innuendos just because I had my arm around my girlfriend's shoulder during evening worship in my parent's house. After worship was closed I borrowed their car and we escaped into the night overseen by a full moon and a little while later I proposed. I was trying to escape the shame of my childhood and youth only to have it strongly injected into the very foundation mix of this relationship.

How much that has affected us and hindered us from forming close bonds of love and respect, I don't know if I will ever know the extent. But I am sure it is much greater than I ever realized. The floor is being exposed and the rottenness is falling apart before my eyes. I too need a new floor, both in my own identity and in my marriage. How is that going to come about? I don't have much idea right now much more than I know how to fix my boat sitting in the driveway. I value my boat. I don't want to scrap it. I don't see the way clear to buy a replacement and it is a valuable asset in helping create fun opportunities for strengthening bonds with family and friends. I simply don't have the wisdom, skill and resources needed for the problem in front of me.

Likewise, my life and my marriage need far more extensive remediation and infrastructure replacement than I could ever see before. And this too is far beyond my ability, wisdom and resources. I'm sure glad this God-size problem belongs to Someone God's size instead of me. “Who will deliver me.... I thank God.”

The pervasiveness of my pride, the extent and control of the many false gods inside, the paradigm of “image manager” and all that that implies is just beginning to be seen in the dim light of dawn. I don't know if I really know how to walk in the light or not, much less run or mount up as an eagle. But it sure would be a thrill to experience that on a regular basis.

Another baffling and elusive part of me is, what does the real Floyd look like, the one that God originally created and encoded into my genes. I've heard that the real design is unique and extremely valuable and even confident. He has very special and powerful characteristics that, energized by a vital connection with his Creator would bring untold blessing and joy to everyone touched by his life.

I want to discover him. He has been stuffed, stifled and gagged for most of his life. His identity was replaced early on in life by definitions and cheap copies purporting to be his real identity. “The gods must be crazy” is more than just a funny movie, it is a reality. The gods have been managing my identity and my relationships for most of my life and I was clueless. I had no way of knowing that it wasn't me making all those assumptions about myself, it was sin dwelling in me asserting that it was the real me.

Flushing this all out into the light and trying to condense what I am experiencing into words is a very unsettling experience at the least. My gods are getting more agitated by the day as their secure position is fast eroding. My accustomed job of controlling what everyone thinks about me is under threat as well and fear of unemployment in this arena is somewhat disconcerting. I feel very unstable, unpredictable, even unreliable. I have not let go fully and am not even sure I know how. I guess I have never had anyone treat me or believe in my real identity like Kevin and Rose have done over the past few weeks. That to is frightening for I cannot depend on their perspective up close much longer. There are other lives to rescue and this job cannot hog their resources much longer.

So, what is God up to here? This is scaring the hell out me now. That has been my problem most of my life, the hell in me. The gods from hell have been comfortable here for years and now they are scared. But that is pretty much all I have ever known about “myself”. I desperately need more people around me to not only see me with the eyes of heaven but to help me see the same. I sense that I know almost nothing about my original design. My images have been so thorough that I am baffled to know where to look or how separate the genuine from the counterfeit identity. I have thought about trying to assemble a list of pieces of personality that may have the ring of original design, but I'm not sure my own mind can be trusted to differentiate accurately. At the same time I don't feel safe trusting anyone else too much with that job either since other people are the primary reason and source of my false I.D. to start with.

So, now what? I honestly don't know. I'm not even sure if it is for me to know. That may be the issue of faith. I have to trust that God is orchestrating this whole thing and is more than competent to finish what He started and do it on time as well. What other option do I have, continue my job as the manipulator of everyone's opinion of me? That's very hard work, so far has been less than immensely satisfying and is very tiring. However, it's what I am most familiar with and the gods are still demanding participation and cooperation. Their carrots and sticks are still waving in my face. Lord Fear and Sister Shame are confident they can reassert their control over me and I am certainly very vulnerable to their vicious attacks. I not only need God's presence and new life inside but I also need a community of wounded lovers and believers who are living the same experience as me.

Where are they God?