The Created Void

The title is the name of an Underoath song. And I'm worried its appropriate.

Today was Sunday. I should have more to write. But I don't, so this post will be odds and ends I've wanted to peck at for a while.

This morning before I got up I kept drifting in these in-and-out stages where I kept getting these thoughts, things which might have been God speaking. But I put them all out of my mind and dismissed them except for one I still can't get rid of.

And really the theme of the day has been feeling absent from God. My first prayer journal entry this morning was, "Help me Papa. Carry me."

Church really didn't do it for me today either. And I try to console myself by saying what "astute" pastors say, "Worship isn't about you. Its an offering." But in that, if you're doing it, you should draw near to God, and you can't help but be touched by that. And I just didn't get anything. I didn't draw near. But I meant it. At least I think so.

I'm sure the message was good, but I kept searching for whatever I was supposed to hear, and just didn't get it. I was kind of starting to feel left out. I felt God more in the fellowship time after church than I did the whole preceding 1 1/2 hrs. Sad.

We had Young Adults again tonight for the first time in about a month. I was so excited about it, and I did have a good time. But I don't really feel like I got much out of it. Honestly I think I was more confused coming out.

There were little things that God did. At one point Aaron was talking about the group and where we were, and he said he felt we were poised for tremendous growth, and Rachel turned and looked at me. And then Nick turned and looked at me. Maybe this vehicle will be big. Maybe God will put me at the head of this charge. Maybe this worship service idea will go huge. Maybe not.

Also, at the end of everything, Aaron said he felt God telling him to encourage songwriting as a result of the night. Now this intersects two interesting tidbits, which are discussions with both Daniel and Nick about getting involved in music together. And when he said it they both looked at me, and nobody else really seemed effected. But I'm not really selling myself on either idea. Can you tell I'm feeling distant?

I was expecting, no I was hoping, that today God would do something about all this turmoil and craziness my hearts been under ever since Thursday night. I was hoping He would come and do something big. Peace, or a calling. But really, now that I feel the way I do I'd have been happy just feeling close to Him at all. But it feels like He's left the building.

And my thoughts . . . well today I got an email from an old friend, a female, who's been tracking the blog (out of nowhere). And she basically ranted on me for being stuck on Heather when I'm "clearly way too good for her. That's what all of this shows. There's all this love. All these incredible elements of what a [edited] catch you are, and she is turning it down. And for what I'm not sure." And I didn't totally disagree. Its not lasting but . . . sometimes that thought floats across my mind.

Sometimes I just feel sorry for her that she doesn't really know what she's giving up. And sometimes I'm happy about it. Sometimes I just want to stay here and work my butt off from God and never think about females in that way again. Sometimes I'm worried that I won't make it without her by my side.

Now I'm going to tell a story I really want to.

I almost burst into tears the other night in front of my brother and my mom, and here's why:

I had a dream a while ago, more than a week. Part of why this dream was so interesting is that it was a serial dream. I've had three successive dreams that are all related, almost like sequels, with this one being the most recent.

The all deal with a "zombie" like infection breaking out, which could obviously be an apocalyptic metaphor. Or reality.

The most recent started almost exactly where the last one left off. I was in a school, and I was trying to save people. I was moving everyone away from people who were infected (they weren't hostile) and trying to coral them towards this one area. Someone directs my attention to another part of the building which has not yet been dealt with. I go back there and notice that the hallway I'm on is much larger than I thought, and there are more hallways than I thought. I cautiously open the first door and quickly explain what's going on. I tell everyone to follow me.

But then I have to stand at the door, and I have to look people in the eye to tell who is infected. And I look at these people, and I keep sending people to stand in this one little area in front of me, because they are infected. And so few people get sent back to safety. And before I know it, the infected group is huge. And the people are still coming. I realize I had no idea how many people were back there, how many people needed help, and they just keep coming. At some point there are too many infected people, and we've run out of time.

Without being told to, I know I have to kill them. I turn around and see propane and gasoline tanks behind me, as well as my gun and a torch system. I try to calmly stack up the tanks, but the people in the group object. But not as strongly as you might think. Its like they understand what is happening and they are mad, but they don't realize they could stop it. And finally the tanks are all setup. As I hold the torch in my hand, ready to drop it on the trail of gasoline I look back over all their faces and it hits me. This is my fault.

It was my responsibility to save them, and I didn't act fast enough, and that's why the group is so big. And now I have to kill the very people I was trying to save. And as I drop the torch I woke up.

So then a few nights ago I went out to eat with my mom and brother, and all the servers at the little place we went to were teenagers. And on the way home I started thinking about that dream, and I almost started crying. There's a corollary there that scares me too much to even talk about.

Rest assured that God is good, but I kind of need Him to come back. I need to feel Him. This sucks.

What I don't want to admit, for more reasons than one, is that I think this is my fault. I just want it to go away.