Friday, March 12, 2004

There's a difference between my life, and their lives.

That's not to say that their lives don't affect mine. That I don't hurt when they hurt, that their state of mind doesn't affect my peace of mind. These things are part of life, relationships, existing on a planet full of humans. I'm learning to accept the relational aspect of life in general, along with the pain that involves.

It is ever so easy in the eye of the storm to lose sight of God's blessings. It's easy to let someone else's grief become your own. It's easy, particularly for someone like me (and a couple others I know) to pull a hero, and then wake up buried in burdens....

But what if I separate myself from them? What if I take a moment to ask myself what God is doing in my life?

When I do that, I remember that my life is rife with blessing. I have a home that I love, surrounded by wonderful people who care about me. I'm safe and secure and I'm going to Africa. I HAVE CABLE TV AND CALL DISPLAY!! Seriously. I like my job, and since it doesn't pay enough, God has provided me with a SECOND job!! Then He gave me the health and energy to pull it all off, and a puppy for my birthday!!

This is all circumstantial. The book I was just reading followed a character from positions of great priviledge, to great poverty, to torturous tribulation, and round about and back again. Life is a story. My life is a story, and it intertwines and comes into contact with other stories. This is one chapter of a story that might last 60 more years, and might end tomorrow. But when it's over, all loose ends will be tied up. If I can remember that, my faith won't be shaken when the circumstances favor me less.

But you know, when it's all over, I can't point my finger at God and accuse Him of distance, or lack of empathy. I can't tell Him that He didn't know how much it hurt. He knows.... He chose to place Himself in a position that would create a kinship with me. He faced the limitations of humanity and now makes a claim that no other god can make.

Regardless of all His blessings, all flesh is still grass, and it grows in a hostile environment. Tragedy will strike because this is planet earth. But God cannot abandon, and God does not ignore.

That goes for my dad, stepmom, Fuzzy and Pooky. So I can put them all down and step back into the trail that God has already blazed for me. I notice that He planted flowers on His way through. Rain or shine, I can't forget to thank Him for the flowers.
I just finished a good book. Byzantium by Stephen R. Lawhead. I've got a lot on my mind that has been brought up and clarified by the book, but every time I try to write on one of those topics..... well I just wind up deleting it. Maybe I'm just too tired..... I did after all work ALOT today, and now it's getting late.....

I PROMISE..... I'll actually write something tomorrow..... and it'll be good. Cuz God's been talking to me about some stuff. I just need some time to dedicate to the subject.

Okay..... tomorrow then.

ps..... I got a letter from Chimwemwe. That makes me super cool, and you..... letterless. Sucks to be you.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

He who is quick to hate is easily despised.

When I'm anxious, I chew my lower lip. Three weeks of chewing have taken their toll.

Tomorrow I have to talk to my boss about getting time off for the Liberia trip. Wish me luck.

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

I finally did it!! I printed and signed ALL my support letters. All that remains is to print out the envelopes, stuff and send. I HATE doing support letters. But I did it anyways. Better late than never, even if it is a week and a half late.

Okay. I'm gonna be in bed by 11. That's my decision. It's final. So I have to go. I'm sure I'll have more to say tomorrow. Perhaps some pent up rage or a something else amusing. Have a nice night.

Sunday, March 07, 2004

Something about the inky blackness of the highway tonight seemed threatening, overwhelming.... draining. I felt the weariness in my bones. I felt very old..... very tired.... very sad.

Beside me, Fuzzy slept with his half of the chocolate bar uneaten in his hands. It felt like driving him to an execution. We didn't talk, but I could feel his brokenness..... I've felt it all weekend, and I hate it. I wish I could just keep him. He could feel safe here. Why should I have to bring him back there? Why should I have to leave him there? How is that any different than beating him and leaving him on the side of the road?

Life is hard. The hardest is watching it chew up the people you love and spit them back out..... and there's really nothing you can do to prevent it.

I used to write poetry, but I don't anymore. I wish I did. I'd write a poem about an inky black night with a blood red moon overlooking an icy highway where sad people drive places they really don't want to go. But I don't write poetry anymore.

I need to be in bed now.
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