"Oh my God, we cannot hear, the sounds too loud, we drown it out"

I've had the editing window for this post open for a good 25 minutes, with nothing to show for it.  I've done absolutely everything else I can think of to occupy my time, and now I'm stooping to getting this started, by telling you I'm having trouble getting it started.  Yeah, this'll be a good one.

Its not that I don't have things to say, I'm just not even sure where to start, or how to get them out at all.

6 Flags was an absolute blast.  It was a small group, and I'd only spent more than a few minutes with one of them, and I don't think I was alone in that.  Despite this, we gelled really well and ended up having a fantastic day.

I got home relatively early (9:30-ish) and spent a few minutes talking to Celia, and then I tried to will myself to stay awake reading and playing videogames (alternately, not at the same time).  My brother was getting his race car ready for another day of racing and came in and asked me to test it at about 11:30.  So of course I did.  And there I was, going inordinately fast, on a public road, in a marked race car.  I think my whole life used to be like this.  Moments that seem too big or too crazy to be real.  I'm very upset they have become so infrequent.

Saturday was . . . interesting.  But not impressively so.  Which I mention mostly as a literary element, a segue to the next section.

I skipped church on Sunday.  And that's the first time I've missed a Sunday somewhere in 3 months.  In the strictest sense it was intentional, but that doesn't tell the whole story.  As of Saturday night, I had every intention of going to church the next day.

Now to fully frame this I have to explain that I stayed up way too late on Thursday writing a blog post.  And then got up at 7 to go spend all day running around in the sun at an amusement park.  Despite being pretty wiped out I stayed up relatively late on Friday helping my brother, and then got up early on Saturday to go to a local MMA gym.  I spent Saturday afternoon doing quite a bit of intense yardwork, and then stayed up late again reading this book that has me totally fascinated.  Despite all that I set my alarm and went to bed expecting to have a typical Sunday.

When I woke up the next morning I was exhausted.  I tried to tell myself that I needed to get over it, that church is more important than any of that.  But then a thought hit me.  I remembered how I'd felt last Sunday night.  I remembered how I hadn't heard a peep from anyone but Nick and Rachel all week, despite a number of reason I knew I should have.  And I just realized I didn't want to go to CIL.  I didn't want to be there, around those people, feeling fake and unconnected.  Had I bothered to reach this conclusion early I could have found somewhere else to go, even if I figured I wouldn't be crazy about it.  But as it was, I just went back to bed.

I truly was intent on spending time with God on my own, but . . . I didn't.

Now this brings up a number of points:

1) No one from CIL has contacted me about not being there Sunday morning or Sunday night, so I really think that seals the deal.  I'm pretty sure I'm done there.  This is a very scary prospect.  It means I have to find a new church, which is quite a daunting idea.  I could try GodWhy, but from everything I've heard, I just think I need to be somewhere else on Sundays.  Remembering my previous canvas of local churches does not bring me much hope.  I really can't think of anywhere else close that seems appealing to me.  And I can't afford right now to go far away to church. And even if I could I don't like the idea, that makes it harder to easily live with people, which brings up another element.  The people from CIL were the ones I had been spending the most time with, so as it stands I've lost most of my friends, with few prospects for quantity replacement.  Maybe I should move.

2) I've mentioned it before, but I'm absolutely sure I'm not as gentle as I used to be.  I've become much gruffer lately, if only in my thought life, and I don't care for it at all.

I could have easily skipped the gym on Saturday morning and slept in, but I didn't.  As you'll recall I'd had a few "fight" themed dreams the previous week and watched Fight Club on Thursday night.  I was raring to go.  And Saturday mornings at local MMA gyms are a buffet for a guy like me.  The gyms are full of over eager, over egoed weekend warrior types who think a few training sessions make them skilled fighters and that fighting is a great way to complete and enrich their empty soul sucking lives.  And people who don't know much about fighting think everything is determined by size.  Some of these guys don't even ask what training you've been through.  Its almost too easy.

And that paragraph right there explains most of the problem.  I don't like thinking like that.  I don't like that I wanted to go at all.  I don't like how I framed those guys, instead of just recognizing them as in need of Christ.  This is why I often think of giving up fighting and never going near it again.  And other things, just . . . ways I recognize I use to be gentler.  And I don't like it.

3)  This book I'm reading about the Ark of the Covenant is stealing my time and attention.  I'm hoping to write a little bit on it soon, as well as the other book I just finished that was great.

4)  Most importantly, I'm not where I need to be with God, and this made me realize it.

Why didn't I spend time with God on Sunday?  Why wasn't I doing everything I could to make it happen?  Why am I nervous about finding a church?  Why am I freaking out about money and a job and everything other thing under the sun?

Because I'm disconnected.

I don't know how it happened.  Functionally everything is pretty much the same, its like just the depth is missing.

And today was interesting.  I was doing more yardwork before I went over to Jeff's and I was thinking about all these areas of my life that I just feel completely lost in, and I realized I'm not sure the last time I heard from God.  And all this stuff is weighing on me, there are all these questions.  And I haven' heard anything.  I should.  And I know its my fault.  I don't know why it is, I don't know what to call it, but even as I sit here I don't want to go spend quality time with Him.  What a freaking disaster.

To make matters worse, I've had dreams about Heather three of the last four nights.  Thursday and Friday night I had dreams where we were reunited, so real that when I woke up I was surprised to remember reality.  And then last night I don't even remember, I think it was an argument.  The important things in all this are the effects.

Chiefly, I don't trust my dreams anymore, perhaps even my spiritual ears at all.  Specifically in regards to dreams though, it just seems I've lost whatever gift I had.  Sucktastic.

Also troubling is that I've found myself thinking of Heather recently.  Even when I told Lauren and Katie the whole story on Friday night, I was fine.  (I did think it funny they both said she'd call).  And mostly it was a passing thing.  But today . . . I feel like I've missed her and longed for her and thought about her all day.  And I hate it.

I am sourceless raging self-anger.

Seriously, I'm not in a bad mood.  I think I just need sleep.  Really I know better.  I need to spend time with God.  I need some answers.  I need some provision.  I need to hear His voice.

I'm not there yet.  I hate that I still get afraid of things.  I hate that I don't live completely on love.  I hate that I don't like any route I see and I still keep hoping and yet I doubt at the same time.

"In all things" right?  Let's get this show on the road.