life is not so good right now. mostly stuff at home. and i haven’t yet reconciled my faith and belief in God, but i call out to him everyday that this family can pull through. that i can pull through. intellectually, the hurdles have not been crossed but i hold on to God like a lifeline. and if he doesn’t exist -if there isn’t a God- then all this is in vain. and i might as well enter oblivion.
emotionally, i must believe in God. yes, i have reached this point. where i cannot help myself anymore. where i must depend on God, wholly. and still, i’m trying to apprehend this helplessness -my helplessness. that God truly is God, if he exists, and all power lies in him. that we can do nothing, and he can do everything. but also, despite our helplessness, his promise as our father was “if you should ask anything in my name, and i don’t have it, i will make it for you.”
if there is God, then there is meaning in him and this struggle. there is a lesson i’m being taught: how to be a Christian who gravely understands what it means to be one and forgiveness.
one year ago, on christmas day, i became a born-again -my rebirth sealed by the act of baptism. this year, i’ve been tossed into the deep end, forced to learn to swim, again, correctly, as God means swimming to be.
it is painful. it’s like i keep taking gulps of chlorine water and my muscles are aching from the effort of treading water but i can’t drown. powerless.
this is the first time i’ve written since it happened. i think i’m past berating God. there’s no point. and the best i can do is probably to make the best of this. logic tells me, i must stop beating at the doors that have been closed to me and turn towards the open ones. i know it’s self pity and a general sense of life’s unfairness that’s keeping me at those closed doors. and i must recognize that painful as it is to me, i really have nothing to complain about when there are others who are going through worse.
so, i’m gonna stop being a baby about this. and trust that there is a higher purpose i’m being trained for. and i’m worn down. downtrodden. bitter. completely different from the younger me. i really don’t remember how to laugh like i used to and how that felt. but there must be a reason i’m being changed. and one day, i’ll remember that old laughter. i’ll remember that because i’ll have succeeded, conquered and fulfilled.
i will stop howling “who moved my cheese!” and get out of the barren station C. and i will look for new cheese.
that was an uncharacteristically optimistic piece, no doubt brought about by the exuberance of creating again. i’ve been so out of touch in my pool of pity. here’s what i just made for dick’s seasons greeting to his clients:
swedish santa claus from edmund captured with canon550d
“Christmas is not as much about opening our presents as opening our hearts.” Janice Maeditere
and it says “a vampireval original. email firstname.lastname@example.org”
a completely unimaginative pseudonym because i’m always at a loss when asked to fill in a username and so it stuck. it’s a childhood ambition. the glitter of immortality, superpowers and beauty, from reading christopher pike’s the last vampire series. of course, if i had known life was such a pain in the ass…