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06-29

I wish I had more answers than questions now Lord. I don't know why You made me this way. I don't know if I will ever be better than I am now. I don't know where I am going or what You have planned for me. I don't even really know why I went through what I did in the past.

I don't know if I am being truly honest with myself or with others. I don't even know if I need to. Every day I just guess at what my life is meant to be unsure if I am living what You planned, I planned, or what others planned for me.

I just graduated college and should remember to be grateful for that answered prayer. My life can go so many directions, and right now I don't know which way it will go. Fair enough - realistically my career is fairly low on my totem pole of life incongruencies as this seems fairly natural for the place of life I am in. My relationships with God and others should make much more sense to care about.

Here I am again writing on this decades old tumblr blog wrestling with the same question of what the purpose of my life is. Intellectually I know the "correct" answer as a lifelong Christian: "glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever". My heart is much more confused. That answer to life's question "feels" insufficient some days, and the only possible correct answer on other days.

I may be lost to myself, but I am never lost to You. If I was fearfully and wonderfully made then I never have to fear that I am drifting about devoid of value or purpose. I am filled to the brim with both. Lord I pray for peace even without the understanding.

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In other sadder news... It is incredibly painful and sad to give up relationships that are ultimately not God-honoring. How do I talk about this pain with others? God I need You, help me remember You are my friend and have surrounded me with plenty of physical friends who would gladly carry this burden with me.

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Mind the wrinkled kimono - I brought it out from storage just for this photo. My little brother bought a Tanjiro costume not knowing I went as him last Halloween. It's kind of funny that we are the same person.

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i am a private person who doesn’t like talking about their life but who also compulsively overshares at any given opportunity. hope that helps

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“Say to yourself every morning when you rise, and every night when you lie down, “The fashion of this world passes away. The life that I now live is not all. There is something besides business, and money, and pleasure, and commerce, and trade. There is life to come. We have all immortal souls”.”

— J.C. Ryle

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I'm tempted to say feelings are stupid and don't matter because I don't want to deal with them. BUT feelings were made by God too. God deemed it better to feel than to feel numb. Just because feelings were made by God does not mean they're holy and perfect, but they do mean that there is a holy and perfect purpose for them out there (and that is to glorify and enjoy the God who made them).

but ugh dealing with feelings is hard

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a mood

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“Rise up, then. Mend your ways, start seeing what you are instead of calculating what you should become.”

— Franz Kafka, from a diary entry c. August 1916, featured in “Diaries,”

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Great Falls and Harper's Ferry (Maryland Heights)

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““Prayer as a relationship is probably your best indicator about the health of your love relationship with God. If your prayer life has been slack, your love relationship has grown cold.””

— John Piper

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It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations… . There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations — these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit — immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.

C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory