Over this last month in Anderson, I've been doing a lot of thinking. I think a lot anyway, so that's not unusual. And I've met a lot of people here who try to help me think more clearly. And that really is a blessing. But I still feel as directionless/tired/ineffective as I have for the last year, and that's really frustrating. More than one person has told me that God has me in this (metaphorical) place for a reason. I'm a planner, so the only way for me to start to living by faith is to have my plan slowly and painfully pried from my aching fingers. And gosh darnit (I try to say cuss words only in my head), it is painful.
I've started attending Celebrate Recovery at The Bridge Community Church here in Anderson. It's a group of people who gather together for worship and a time of personal sharing. It's pretty neat to see people gather together and be real about who they are and what they're going through. As I have begun to share what's going on in my life, I have found that I live in a lot of fear and need to control. (This is as recurring theme in my posts, I've noticed.) And it's not like I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid of the unknown. I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid of walking into a situation without knowing the sequence of events and the outcome that will ensue. I'm afraid of starting something I shouldn't, or being unable to finish. I'm afraid of being passionate about something I'm no good at, or being good at something I'm not passionate about. I'm afraid of doing something, but I'm afraid of doing nothing. I live in the limbo of mediocrity because I refuse to do anything at all.
I don't want to live like that. And I haven't given up hope. I feel like God has placed certain passions on my heart, but I'm still discovering what those are. I haven't lost my drive to go out and "do stuff." I still want to serve God. I still want to impact lives. I still want to live outside of my own "self." But I am feeling overwhelmed with all that I desire to conquer and even discerning what the first step is.
Honestly, though, today was a good day. I witnessed other people serve and love just because. I sat on a swing in the rain, admiring a beautiful scene of fireflies and the twilight fading into darkness. I was real with God. And I ate cookie dough.
Maybe tomorrow all my deliberation will stop oil spills and save earthquake victims, but not today. And that's okay for now.
