Let's Try This Again

Shoot, has it been that long since I posted something here? I have a number of drafts, maybe I should brush off and post a couple of those. I can't make excuses for not posting, other than I just didn't feel like it.

So, 2011 has sucked so far. Winter is generally a haze of unmotivated depression for me anyway, and the 180 inches of snow we got this year really didn't help. In February I had an appendectomy and right before Easter I lost my grandmother.

I also haven't been doing very well in my interactions with other people. I keep finding myself trying to manipulate their perception of who I am. And quite frankly, I've spent much of the past several months just being angry and bitter. I feel stuck, trapped, weighed down by the burden of just making my way through life. I'm frustrated that I haven't moved beyond this scene, that I haven't grown out of this phase. Maturity seems as reachable as Jupiter.

And yet, last Friday during a time of worship with friends, I felt as if God was reassuring me of his promise that I would know his love. He seems to make a habit of that, speaking of love when I am most unlovable.

The odd thing is that I feel almost ashamed to still be focused on Father's love, affection, and grace. Aren't these such elementary concepts? Shouldn't someone who has been a Christian their entire life have moved beyond this by now? I look at others who are focused on things like social justice and making a tangible impact in the lives of others. Why can't I be more like them? Why am I doing 2nd grade math homework when my peers have moved on to string theory? I feel as if my pursuit of a greater understanding of God's love and grace is self-indulgent, while other pursuits are more noble and selfless.

There I go again, losing sight of what (and who) is important. Why must I continually compare my own journey to those around me? Is a left rib envious of the right hand?

I wonder what Father's reaction is like each time I get all anxious and stressed out about this stuff. Does he shake his head in disappointment? Does he keep walking on so that I have to run to catch up? Does he gently smile and sit down in the dirt next to me as I pound my fists and feet against the ground while throwing a fit? Does he wait until I've exhausted myself before pulling me into his arms and cleaning my dirty, tear-streaked face? Does he again take my hand as we walk together, taking small steps to match my stumbling pace?

Well, this was somewhat uncomfortable. But it was honest, and I guess that's why I do this. Father, your love is so humbling. Thank you.