Look Out Below

I've been feeling fairly lost these past few days...well more than usual...and wondering what I'm supposed to do, where I'm supposed to go, and if God's trying to talk me but maybe I'm simply not listening hard enough.  Cut to about 6:00 this morning when I'm awakened to sound of a voice telling me "God doesn't want you to hide your light. He wants you to share it with the world."  No, it wasn't the Almighty come down from heaven to wake me up...not literally anyway.  I had fallen asleep with my TV set on one of those stations that airs Christian shows during the early morning hours.  The voice I heard was that of a female pastor, but it may very well have been that of God too.  You never know how he might choose to speak to us.  Don't hide your light.  Simple yet scary instructions, yet I know in my heart it's true. 

I've worked from home for the past several years and each day it's become easier and easier to withdraw from the life around me.  I participate but I don't engage..kind of like a sleepwalker who jolts awake every so often but never long enough to contribute anything of themselves to reality.  I'm terrified and I'm ready all at the same time to make this change.  I think I have something to offer and apparently God does too. This is my leap of faith.....look out below....

I'm A Christian, Damn It

If you've read any of my past blog posts, you'll notice straight away that I swear...a lot.  None of the big ones mind you but certainly enough of the lesser evils to make up for that fact.  Which brings up the question, are Christians even allowed to cuss?  Which, of course, brings up a whole slew of other questions, the most important being (to me anyway), what makes a Christian a Christian?  Are they someone who goes to church every Sunday, brushes their teeth 3 times a day, and always but always eats all their vegetables? Maybe, but I'm betting we all know people who do those things and we still wouldn't classify them in such a manner.  And therein lies the real problem. My perception of another person's character may not be the same as yours which may not be the same as someone else's, which may not be the same as God's.  And whose opinion out of all that crowd do you think matters the most? 

So where does that leave us? Oh right, in the middle of a rambling blog post about swearing.  For me, what it comes down to is this:  It's not my job to judge....I have enough to do trying to get myself straightened up and back on the right path.  Is this just a self-serving view point so I can feel better about my spiritual well being?  I sure hope not.  But, I guess if it is, He'll let me know because I truly want do better.....want to be a better person.  But, I don't want to get so caught up in all the little things that I can't see the big picture.  And of course, I don't want to get so caught up in the big picture that I miss the little things. 

Confusing?  Actually no, not to me.  But even if it is, there's one thing I am certain about.  God:  he's one hell of a guy.

The Stuck-It List

A list of the positive changes I made in my life today towards regaining my faith:

1. I made this list.
2. I stared at this list.
3. I stared at this list and cried for a little while.
4. I stared at this list, cried for a little while, and vowed to never make such useless lists again.

Umm...perhaps I need another strategy.

Postcard from Cancun

I used to consider my Hope as somewhat of a separate entity from myself.  Almost like a little talisman I could carry around in my pocket and take out whenever I needed to.  Hope to me was the feeling that no matter what, things were going to work out for the best, even when there was no tangible reason to feel that way.  I used to believe that anyway.  I'm not sure what changed.  It's simply not there anymore.  Maybe it ran off to Cancun with my Faith to lounge around the beach and drink Maragaritas with Juan the cabana boy.  I'm not sure how to get it or my Faith to come home.  I'm afraid I'm all out of return tickets.  And hell, if I could spend my time in a tropical paradise, I guess I wouldn't come home either.

I hope you weren't waiting for an uplifting twist to this little tale because I don't have one.  If you do, feel free to chime in anytime...I sure could use a little uplifting.

Prayer Reflex

I prayed this morning.  It was spontaneous, without thought, and completely fear induced.  I use that word a lot:  fear.  Sometimes, I think I should have it tattooed across my forehead...right next to the "Mike Rowe Is My Husband, He Just Doesn't Know It Yet" tattoo below my right eye.  Fear seems to guide everything I do.  I wake up with it and go to bed with it.  It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth when I'm not really thinking about it...a reminder, I guess, just in case I thought for a few seconds I could be normal. What does all that have to do with the praying?  Not only did I wake up with the taste of fear on my tongue..it was a full course meal complete with soup, salad, and those little tomatoes no one ever eats.  So, I prayed.  It was reflex and just a little sad.  Why do I only pray when I'm scared?  I often wonder what God thinks about it.  "There she goes again".  How can I expect him to be there for me when I'm not there for him?  I know..I know.  He's God.  He loves us no matter what but that doesn't mean we shouldn't expect more from ourselves. 

So, I sit here with the same knot in my stomach I've had for days now wondering what I'm supposed to do.  It's so easy to pledge to change....to "earn" God's mercy and help.  The actual doing...not so much.  I don't want my life to be a mere series of panicked episodes and sporadic redemptions.  I want it to be a path, crooked though it may be, of me at least try to go somewhere.   But right now, I've lost my map, I'm out of water, and there's an annoying blister on my toe. 

Crossroads

I was going to write this last night but honestly needed a few hours to stew about it and bemoan my life.  Oh, I  didn't learn anything from it..of course not. That'd make too much sense wouldn't it?  Maybe I should start from the beginning or I guess middle, as I've already established previously I have no clue where the beginning is. 

My road to fear-induced self-discovery began last week when I came to a crossroads in my job.  The company I work for is great...my supervisor is great....the work itself is, well, not great because work seldom is, but I was good at it.  I had all that going for me, and I was still miserable.  Why?  If I knew that, I'd be dancing around the yard like a crazy person smelling the butterflies and chasing the flowers.  So, I made the decision to quit my job.  And I never do that...never do what is not responsible, not reliable, not for the most part logical.  Now that I think about it, perhaps I'm half Vulcan.  Hmmm.  Regardless, after a lot of ugly crying and nonsensical rambling, I did it...I gave my notice.  It scared the hell out of me but continuing on as I had been scared me even more.  So I did it.  In the movies, this is the part usually where you see the hero/heroine striding purposefully toward the horizon having faced life's hurdles and won as Aerosmith plays in the background.  I sat on the couch and cried.....with the Spongebob Squarepants theme song helping me along.  It wasn't pretty. 

Cut to a few days later.  I haven't cried as much.  I only want to throw up all that time, but I guess that's an improvement.  And then I get THE E-MAIL.  My job wanted me to work a few more weeks past my quit date.  And I said yes.  So much for self-discovery.  Not that working for a few more weeks is such a bad thing.  But then why do I feel the velvet talons of safety pulling me back in? I'm not brave...never have been.  I don't know if I can do this. 

The Beginning

We all have to start somewhere.  I'm not so sure I exactly started here....at least not according to my dad and "the talk" all those years ago.  I can't even say I spiritually started here either.  I've been "reborn" more times than I can count, both figuratively, literally, and after one of those damn Hallmark commercials that make you just want to hug your mom and feed all the starving kids in Africa.  But, now does seem different.  I've hit a point in my life where I feel like I'm teetering on the top of a steep hill, and I can go either way. Do I slide backwards into what I know is comfortable, reliable, tried and true, life sucking, soul expunging, heart crushing...or do I slide forward into what is uncomfortable, terrifying, uncertain, nausea inducing?  Both directions are downhill.  But at least with falling foward I'll at least have momentum on my side.  I suppose that could spur me up  and over whatever next mountainous hill God has in store for me. 

See how I slid that in there?  Sneaky huh.  God.  Just say his name a few times.  Think about your immediate reaction.  Does it matter?  Did you smile, frown, roll your eyes?  I used to smile...feel hope and sunshine swell up my insides like butterflies lifting my spirit into the heavens.  These days, I just want to throw up.  I'll be honest. God scares that hell out of me.  I'm sure that's blasphemous on many levels, but it's the unfortunate truth.  Sometimes, I think he scares me even more the devil...because well he's God...full of Goodness and Light and me...we'll I'm not.  I'd like to be....boy would I like to be.  So, I did what any sane lost soul would do....I started a blog about it. 

I guess I'm hoping I'm not alone.  Logically, I know I'm not.  But that's hard to remember when it's midnight and I'm up spending my time with Chuck Norris and his shoe polish hair telling me how a Total Gym can change my life.  That's when the doubts are the worst....the fears crawling like little spiders into all my weak spots.  I used to pray during those times.  I used to pray a lot.  Now, I can't even go through the motions.  I consider myself Christian in that I believe in God....but it's been getting harder lately to remember that.  And I have to wonder, it is really God I'm having trouble finding my faith in....or is it just in me?  I hoping to find out.