In theory I'd do anything, but in reality I'll just lay down and die

That's the title of a song I just started working on. Cheery right?

I swear I don't understand the mood I'm in. I don't understand much of anything.

I've been listening to a lot of emery lately. And its not just because I've been discovering how truly amazing they are, but the lyrics, and the song titles. Basically what Toby Moreel and Devin Shelton write about is everything that I'm on right now. Or at least feels like it could be.

I've been struggling today, trying to remind myself of certain colluding quotes. "How you feel does not determine reality." "You're feelings will lie to you, rely on God's truth outside of them."

Yesterday Nick came over to finally start writing some music, which was, interesting. I realized I hadn't fleshed out my some of my ideas quite enough, and those I had, I was pretty self concious about. It was like I had never sang in front of anyone. Great. So it was kind of frusterating, but eventually we made some progress.

Then last night I went to GodWhy for my normal CAKE time. And . . . I should have been blown away. The title of the discussion was "Who is your hero?" Which, since it is related, although not the same as, what Aaron talked about on Sunday, means God is trying to say something. And its not a coincidence of some modern church liturgy, because Jennifer just had the idea the night before, when she watched the Transformers movie trailer.

And what was the actual message? Jennifer was using heros and our need for them to demonstrate a point. Which was that we are called to heroic heights, but the church has forgotten Satan and we have to fight. We have to fight to achieve what God has called us to. Yeah. And yet . . . I am not amazed. I am not enthused. Objectively I understand that it is pretty incredible, and there's a level at which I recognize what it means for me, but . . . I still feel a little empty and run down.

Crazy right?

So I come home and kind of waste out, wanting to avoid what had happend really. And when I finally get read to go to bed I grab my prayer journal and my Bible. "Okay, because of the shake up, some scriptural confirmation would be great."

So I open my Bible. To . . . Jeremiah 33.

Alright, "Did I hear you right, am I still fighting?"

And I open my Bible to . . . Song of Songs. Chapter 5.

Well that's great right? I don't know. It should be. But I feel like I don't have the will. And I'm afraid to believe. And I'm worried everything is just me.

So I pray for other confirmation, and then I have two dreams last night where Heather and I were reunited.

Today I've tried to be in charge. I've tried to set my mind on the thing I've had externally confirmed by God. "You need to be fighting." And I try. But I feel so depleted. So weary. There is so much that needs done on so many fronts. I don't know how to fight this fight, and I'm not sure I can. I need a job. And part of that is so I can have money to commit myself to purposes that matter more. And through it all sometimes I still feel like I'm struggling to get to the end of the day.

I seriously want my face punched in. I've got the urge to go to one of the local MMA gyms and spar and intentionally lose. And I've only ever lost one fight in my life. And it was when I was 8 or so.

I realized something the other day, which reminded me of something else. One of my first times at Kairos Mike was talking about how you can't transfer pain. We get hurt and so we try to lash out and hurt the other person, mistakenly, usually subconsciously thinking it will make our own pain subisde. But it doesn't. And then yesterday my mom does something and feels guilty. But instead of apologizing or anything, she gets mad. She gets mad at me, and blames the thing on me. And I realized that I do that same thing. Or at least I have. Not all the time, but sometimes when I feel guilty I try to turn it out instead of just manning up.

And I started to wonder. I'm still not totally sure why Heather won't even talk to me. Why she's was so angry. Why even now she won't just talk. And I started to wonder. Not to say I didn't screw up. I'd love to apologize to her. Just hold her hand and cry and say how sorry I am. But this . . . the way things are. I can't help but think I'm bearing the weight of something. And I'm okay with it.

What I'm not okay with, is this freaking answer. As I am writing this, a friend messaged me out of the blue, and we haven't talked in a long time. And she asked me how I am. I hate not being able to say great. I used to answer that way all the time. People never used to hear anything different. And I meant it. I want that time. I want to have amazing stories to tell that show God's glory and provision. And not one's from memory.

On the upside, she said something I needed to hear. I told just a bare bones little of what was going on and her response . . . "It'll be okay. You're strong. You might be the strongest man I've ever met." I don't feel like it. But . . . its good to hear. Its a good lift.

Maybe we can do this.