"I hear the words you say, I still feel nothing"

An Underoath song that I've quoted before, called "Coming Down is Calming Down"

How do I explain how I feel? Do I even know? I want everything and nothing.

But I can't even talk about any of it. I'm just . . . emotionally exhausted. I don't even want to writing on here, or really know what to write, but I have to.

The last few days were crap. I was constantly beset. I tried so hard, but it gets so dark. I made a decision the other night, whatever night I posted last. I decided that the last thing I knew I'd gotten from God was to fight, for her, so that meant everything else needed to be pushed out.

The next day I was inundated with feelings of bitterness and anger. All day, constantly, and very strongly. And I guess that should be an encouragement right? Because it looks like coming under attack. But . . . it really just kind of sucked.

And every day was pretty much the same, only slightly more complex. Sometimes feeling like she doesn't deserve for me to love her and be fighting for her. Sometimes . . . I don't even care.

So I every night I've spent time in worship. Reading, writing, listening, singing. Sometimes multiple times. Sometimes I'd feel like I got somewhere. But it would never last. I tried seeking out, I asked God if He wanted me to go to Kansas City and I listened and got nothing. Not on Thursday and not on Friday. I don't know if I'm thankful or angry.

I didn't hear much of anything else either. About anything. Going back and reading over my prayer journal for the 8th and 9th is really kind of a lesson in depression. So many feelings, so many questions, and doubts. And small entries where I cling to the last thing I've really known. But it all felt like crap, and it doesn't read any better.

Then on Saturday night, I accidentally see a picture of Heather, taken since the break up and a little note she wrote me long ago. And I just lost it. I spent an absurd amount of space in my prayer journal talking to God. Asking Him what was going on, asking why all of this was happening. And I thought it had been hard before.

So I spent I don't know how long in worship . . . but it worked. I didn't write down what God said, or what Scripture I read, or what song I listened to, but my next pj entry was this:

"Alright. But something has to change. If you want me to keep fighting You have to give me a job, or something to do about her, or her, or . . . You have to do something, I can't keep on like this."

This amazing song "I AM" by this great little band called Waterdeep came on. And I had this desire to read something, but I didn't know what. I looked around and then I saw it. "Wild at Heart." So I grabbed it and put the song on repeat and read the chapter entitled "A Battle to Fight: The Strategy." It was good, it was moving, it lifted me up, and gave me some encouragement, and I don't feel like it was just me.

One interrupting tidbit. Friday and Saturday night both, because of where I was I asked God a question that He's probably already answered a hundred times. I asked if Heather was it. If I'd been wrong, if something had changed. On Friday night I was lead to a passage concerning whether or not a particular or group will receive their promised inheritance. On Saturday it was another passage talking about the same inheritance subject, and Hosea again.

But I'm not sure I trust. I'm scared to believe.

So I closed my night with this pj entry:

"Oh Lord, set my feet upon Your rock. Be with me as You were with Joshua and Moses. Give me insight for a brother or two, fellow warriors who can push back the gates of Hell with us. Help me cling to You in the dark times when I just have to wait and listen. Lord, make this victory swift. Deliver me. Restore my inheritance. Make her long for me again Lord. This is Your fight, make me able to bear it. Make me strong."

When I woke up this morning, I had an interesting spontaneous thought. "Today is the day she comes back." Yeah, right. So I put it out of my head.

Worship was stellar this morning, but I felt I was having trouble. I couldn't let go of all these thoughts. Of missing Heather, of wanting her. Of STILL not believing any of this was real. So I had to just keep praying for God to take it away so I could worship with an undivided heart. And it kind of worked, but it kind of didn't. I don't know.

So then Beth gets up to give the special Mother's Day sermon. Which was not a special sermon for Mother's Day. It was just what she felt called by God to share.

The title was "You are for me," and it was based on Romans 8:28-39. It wasn't quite the same language, but it was essentially talking about how God is for us, and everything we face needs to be held up to that. That God has it under control. That its His. At the end she was doing an invitation to response and prayer and she said something I still can't believe.

"I can feel it, God's telling me to step out here. God wants to take care of business today."

Well . . . okay.

So I the rest of the day I filled more than a page in my pj asking God to bear it out. I heard the same message twice, that today was the day, and I just kept asking Him to come through on it.

We had a different Young Adults tonight. We met at the church and did some worship and then discussion. I felt so off kilter. At one point I wrote:

"I feel almost afraid to draw near, but I'm not. I want You. What's holding me back? Bring me in."

I'm not sure it worked.

I was kind of a wash-out duringt he discussion. I was listening, aside from the lyrics to Waterdeep's "I AM" constantly running through my head. There were times I wanted to chime in, but not enough to do it.

And now?!

I stayed out as late as I could, avoiding the urge I felt earlier to call Heather. What would I say? To her or her stupid freaking voicemail.

While we were sitting at Steak & Shake I had this thought. During the discussion they talked about forgiveness and there was a moment where I thought maybe I'm all wrong. Maybe God set up today to move me past Heather. But I had to recenter to what I had definitely heard last. "Fight. Fight for her." But later I wondered. How will I ever know? How will I know when this has failed and I am to move on? Why do I "know" it will fail? Why can't I believe?

I'm scared, that's for sure. But that's not all of it. I wasn't scared last night. I was ready to take any wounds that would come from this fight, because I knew they'd be glorious, gained in service to God. Anything I take in this fight I can brag about when I get to Heaven. "Look at this scar. I got this fighting the Dragon." So what is it?

I know it shouldn't but . . . today shook me up. I heard that today was the day. And nothing happened. And sometimes its seems there will be no day. Even as I got ready to write this, I couldn't help but feel like such an idiot for thinking I'll ever kiss my lovely Heather again. I sometimes feel I'm just like the stories I hear, just not able to let go. I got the urge to delete everything. Every Facebook friend I met through her. Every email and picture I've kept hidden away, praying she'd that one day she'd feel so loved because I'd kept them. Even know . . . I'm so scared I'm doing nothing but prolonging my pain.

But there's this little voice. So hard to hear, that quiets those urges to destroy. But of course the culprit would know how to speak in a little voice too.

But the last message I know I got was to fight, even to the death. And even that. It hasn't been a full two weeks and look at me. I'm a mess. The utter lack of progress, in fact feeling like I'm emotionally moving backwards. Like I miss her more now. No movement in the other areas of my life that need it. I thought everything was broken before. Turns out it can always get worse.

But I'm clinging. I can almost convince myself that its almost unthinkable I could misread ALL these things that seem to say she has been and is it. My Eazar.

I realized on the way home tonight that what I essentially have to do right now is completely shut my brain off. Otherwise it thinks, and if it thinks it goes to her, even when I try to just seek Him. And I can't afford to think about her. Even while I try to fight.

God is here. He is so good and so loving and wonderful. But it keeps taking more effort to remember that, and mean it when I say it.

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.

The Great Divide

I am a disaster. Seriously. I can't keep anything straight. I can't settle. I can't keep a fix.

Last night, after I wrote the blog, I finally gave up. I finally went and spent time with God and it all came flooding in. He was there. I knew I had to fight for Heather, I even had a good hopeful sense of how it would turn out.

But when I turned off the lights and put my head down to go to sleep, this feeling came over me. All of a sudden I had this sense of meeting someone else, and I was okay with it. Which I wasn't okay with. The lights were quickly back on and I spent more time in my prayer journal and searching the word. Before it was all I could do to reject this and want her off my heart. Now I was pleading with God to return to that plan.

And that feeling remained with me today, and whenever I brought myself to even approach dealing with it . . . well it has merit to be of anything. And I hate it. Now I suddenly don't want it to be anything. Now I almost feel like I'm fighting with God to move His plan BACK to me marrying Heather. And you never win fights with God.

Worst . . . I think its my fault. I've almost moved beyond doubting that I should have gone to Kansas City on Saturday. I should have. I don't think it was me, I think it was Him. But . . . at the time . . . . With everything that has gone on, with everywhere I've been, how could I know? And so now I have to wonder, is this my fault? Has God really changed His plan, so that I am no longer to be with Heather, just because I didn't go to KC on Saturday? And if so, and I end up with someone else, how could I ever be happy knowing that was just a consolation because I, I, screwed up what was meant for me. Nothing feels good.

It was just Nick and I at Kairos tonight, which would have been fine, but the service itself was kind of disappointing. I had all the thoughts, all these things laying on my heart, and I was expecting that they might be spoken to. But less than that, I'm not sure I got much of anything out of it. Which is a first. The worship was good. But the teaching . . . I just felt like it was for someone else, maybe even a little uninspired. Fluke I guess.

When I was going over the thought from last night, and where it took me today, there was a point where I actually got this feeling that maybe God was going to introduce me to someone tonight at Kairos. And I was actually a little excited. But no dice on that either. Things just keep looking up. I can't even get seen through on the second place things I don't want at all.

But now . . . Mike did say something at the beginning, about last week, and about keeping up the fight. I felt the stirrings. And there was this moment. Right at the end as we were doing closing worship, I was totally focused in on God, everything else was gone and I was just praising and crying out to Him for deliverance. And then this thought hit me. I suddenly felt that I needed to be fighting, that she is still my future. Whirlywind.

As I write that it makes me think of something Mike did say during his talk. He said that part of fighting is worship. If you want to fight the dragon, worship, that'll piss him off. I've been talking at God all day, and earlier I was wondering, if I'm still supposed to be fighting, what the heck am I even supposed to do right now? Praying feels empty and hollow, like you're not listening. is it because you've changed the plan? Is it something wrong with me?

Maybe I should just be worshiping. But . . . Saturday, I should have gone. What now? It can't really be done. Let me fight.

There are some things to stand against what I said earlier, and more with what happened at the end of Kairos, and how I kind of feel now.

Last night before everything went to crap, I was praying and seeking. I asked God if He had really told me to fight. I opened my Bible, but it was upside down so I had to turn it over. Song of Songs, chapter 1. So then I asked how. Psalm 144. Maybe we're still in this. Maybe there's still hope. Maybe she is still my intended.

One last thing. When I put my head back down to go to sleep, I prayed for God to quiet my mind. I prayed that He would take everything away and give me clarity on the reality. I prayed for Kairos, I prayed for friends stepping in, I prayed for reading in the Word. I prayed for a dream.

Last night I had a dream. I can't remember the specifics of it, but I know Heather was in it. The reason I can't remember is because something more important happened. After the dream was over, I heard Heather whisper my name. So clearly that I woke up and turned over to see if she was there in my room. She wasn't but . . . I couldn't shake this feeling. Maybe . . .

Today would have been our 8 month anniversary.

I'm not sure how much of this I can take.

Despite it all, God is good. I just wish I didn't have to say that from memory.

"Most of the time its true"

Nothing's really moved today. I've just been waiting around for the day to be over. Looking forward to going to bed just so it could end. Kind of sad. Oh well right?

There are moments where I've felt I latched back on to God today, but I realized it was connected to hope about Heather. So I started wondering whether it was actually God, and that was just the natural progression, OR like Aaron talked about in the sermon on Sunday, is she just a substitute for where my focus should be? Do I just feel that way because my dark passenger is convinced that getting her back will fix things? Fortunately I haven't let these thoughts plague me much. I'm mostly trying not to think about anything.

I don't have much to say for this post, except to mention something I wanted to talk about last night, one of the stories I wanted to tell.

Not too long before I proposed to Heather she called me and was pretty upset, but trying not to be. She played it cool, but somewhere in the conversation she talked about this plan. Now at this point I was expecting to be living in Philadelphia, and her idea was to come up there before the wedding to spend time together. But I could tell it wasn't out of desire, but fear, so I pressed her. This woman that had been mentoring her for a long time had talked to Heather and had advised her that Heather and I needed to slow down and make sure our personal issues were resolved before we got married. Not that it happened too quickly, just that we needed time to resolve things. Or perhaps not. Either way it had the same effect. Heather was asking for more time. She wasn't sure.

And we talked until it came out that was really it. And so know I knew she wasn't sure about me, about us. And how did I handle it?

I told Heather that I couldn't talk her through it. That it was something she needed to sort out between her and God, because at some point in the future things would be hard and she'd need to lean on that assurance, so that she couldn't believe I'd just talked her into it. She called me a few times during those days, going back and forth and essentially not getting anywhere, which was pretty hard on me. Everytime she called I thought she'd settled it. But I wanted her to be solid in this, I wanted her to be sure, apart from anything I said.

The most amazing part was that the same weekend, right in the middle of all this, I had to call to make the plans to propose to her. I had to call the owner of the Carter Fold to ask if I could get up and sing and propose. While Heather was questioning whether or not we'd even be dating. And I did it. I trusted. I just knew how it would turn out, so I called. And the next day Heather called me and was so sure about me. About us. Those were the days.

Why do I tell this story? Two reasons. First is that I just think its a great story.

Second, I was thinking the other night as I laid down to go to sleep, and I had a kind of realization. I'm kind of back in the same place. I can't go after Heather. She has to make a choice. Which is kinda stupid for me to say because, well, she already has. I feel . . . sometimes I feel like such an idiot. Like I'm doing what everbody else does and just holding on to this idiotic hope that things really aren't over. And sometimes I feel like a complete failure for not fighting harder, even though I have no idea what I'd be doing right now.

I used to be so much more.

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.

After The Devil Beats His Wife

That's a song by emery, that I've used a lyric from as a post title once already. And I hate the fact that song has been on my heart tonight.

The first verse and chorus go like this:

"You wanna swim in the river
I wanna dance in the summer
You've always been the believer
I'm always left to wonder
The water's rushing so fast
I think it will take us under

Oh what thought, did you recall,
that would make you say my name?
The water's too deep, our friend says, 'Don't go'
But my mouth betrays me, and says, 'Hold on'

chorus:
(and now I know)
This is the pain of believing
(the danger is real)
And there's no easy way out
(how did I get here?)
You trust to much in my bravery
its my safety, you're taking."

I wish some other song was on my heart. Or maybe not, it could be worse.

I've been listening to emery a lot the last few days (as well as Nirvana, hello old school) and I just really really like them. I didn't at first, but they're amazing. They are (kind of) a lot more mellow than a lot of what I listen to, but at the same time, song of their songs are really kicking. And a good number of their slow and/or melodic songs build suspense for these incredible rock out endings that are often closer to hardcore than the pop the beginnings imply. Excellent writers and great musicians. You should listen to them. Everyone likes them except you.

I keep promising myself I'll go to bed at a decent time the night before church, and I keep not doing it. And tonight, well, I need to write.

I want to write about anything other than Heather. Anything other than how I feel. I want to talk about this dream I had that I never mentioned, and why I almost burst into tears in front of my mom and brother the other night because of it. But there are things to be said.

I can't get over my hate. Not for Heather or her family or anything, I haven't felt bitter in . . . I'm really not sure how long. I don't remember, that's how long. I hate the fact that I still don't have ears. I still feel like I don't know quite which voices I need to be clinging to in the din and darkness, and which I need to be fighting off for all my life. From the very moment He called me out of my formless darkness of how I lived before Him, I've always been able to hear. And I miss His voice so much. I know its there. I just can't recognize it. Or maybe I'm ignoring. Not that I always have been, but maybe now that's what it is.

Emily and I talked for a while tonight. Which got to me to finally put out all these things I needed to. All these things that have been tearing holes in me today. Shredding me to pieces.

So oddness, Thursday night, after I'd called Heather, I found at Bonnie had brought her copy of Redeeming Love for me to read. And after I wrote in my pj that night I pulled the book out and started reading where I'd left off when I started it at Barnes & Noble. The particular point was the first time Michael goes to visit Angel. Funny coincidence right?

Yesterday (Friday), I woke up under a cloud. Before I got out of bed I had a quarter of a page in my pj, mostly grumbling.

And it didn't get much better. Aside from doing some chores and such, I spent most of the day reading Redeeming Love. It was hard. It tore me apart. I cried I don't know how many times. But ultimately it was good. It was one of those books I enjoyed so much that as I got closer to the end, I wished I wasn't. I wished it would keep going, or that I had it to read over again, fresh and new. I enjoy books so much.

But I still didn't feel better. I felt a little closer to God, but not much.

At some point early in the night I prayed to God about my pain and what He'd asked me to do and the aftermath, and He led me to Matthew 8. Cost of discipleship. Calming of the storm.

Last night I just couldn't take it anymore. I went to God. I started my worhsip time with this journal entry:

"I want to love you so much. I'm hurting so badly. Give me something. Please."

I put on some music and sang along. I prayed and read and wrote. I got an immediate lift from the first song, a David Crowder version of All Creatures. But then it just stagnated, and I knew I still wasn't done. I just kept searching. But no prayer I wrote, no passage I read made me feel full. God was still elusive.

But He did something wonderful, as always. He led me to James 1. Trials and temptations. The Lord is good.

"I love You Lord. May You be praised forever. May Your praises never depart from my lips."

I tried to go on and do other things. But I was so restless, and I've learned. So I put on some droning wordless music and layed down to listen. Almost immediately . . . I thought I heard something. "Find me." I was perplexed, that's not something God says. And then Heather flashed into my mind. It felt like she was the one asking. And then I felt it. I suddenly felt that if I didn't leave for Kansas City in the morning, that nothing would be right. I tried to push it out. I thought of all the obstacles, of the sheer stupidity. And finally I settled back, it had to be my own heart, or Satan. I couldn't have heard right. I had to lay there and hear something more. There had to be something more. But nothing else came.

I grabbed my Bible and prayed. "if its You, if its real, confirm it." I opened my Bible to Psalm 144. The first verse:

"Praise be to the Lord my Rock,
who trains my hands for war,
my fingers for battle."

I used to pray on that verse all the time during hockey. And here it was. At a terrible time. I ripped open my prayer journal:

"Sometimes a man can only do so much. You'll have to say/ask/do something else. Not this."

I layed back down and tried to hear more. But still nothing came. I told Him that there had to be another way. "It'll be harder" I asked if it would be longer. Silence. That's fine with me.

I layed there, wanting to hear something else. Telling myself it was just my own heart, my inability to move on. It was my own desire to control things, that by going I'd not be trusting God. I'm not sure I believe any of it. I'm not sure I heard any of it. I'm not sure I can keep from laughing at all my objections. I'm not sure I can ever think God was speaking during that time.

I layed there trying to hear what He actually wanted to say. And after a while I fell asleep.

I woke up during the night and could feel Him there. I wrote,

"You're so real to me right now. Don't let that change."

Today was a disaster. For the first morning in I don't know how long I didn't immediately open my prayer journal. I'm not sure I touched it until after diner. I don't know why. I wanted God. I wanted, something other than what I felt. But I just didn't do it.

And then Emily and I started talking. I told her everything about last night. She asked me why I hadn't left and we talked a little about it.

At some point I said something that has floated over my mind a few times over the last two weeks or so. That I have to let Heather be because I don't deserve her. That she is better off like this, or at least will be. Emily responded, "so denying her the one she loves is letter her be better off."

I tried . . . I tried to type "She doesn't love me." But I physically couldn't. My fingers wouldn't work. This is all insane.

I talked of all that was standing in the way. Of how scared I am that everything is just me not letting go. The way everyone says. The way Jonathan says. The way I've been with a girl before, someone that I knew I didn't love. Someone I never let near my real heart.

I'd risk anything to follow Christ. I've always been this way. I don't care about the consequences if He is leading. But I know what happens when I move without Him. And right now . . . I'm already so far down. If I'm not hearing, if its not Him . . . .

Glenn finally sent me a message yesterday, telling me to call Him today. Is that a sign? I didn't call. I wanted to so much, and I didn't. I miss him so much my eyes are welling with tears, but I didn't call.

I didn't go. I'm shifting back and forth and what is crazy and what is so crazy it can only be God. I can't survive another mistep. There's nothing left. If He lets . . . .

Right now all I can do is wait. All I can do is get up and go to church and hope its an amazing day. I can't decide if I want God to give me some rediculous sign of what to do, or if I want to be left alone. I wrote that in my pj earlier. I wrote in my prayer journal that I wanted Him to leave me alone. I wrote it while Emily and I were talking.

I was thinking while I was talking to Nick tonight. When this all began I believed I could handle it if God would just tell me how it would turn out, then things happened I could interpret as that and I couldn't handle it. It was a greater burden not seeing the things happen. So then I said I wanted to participate, and then He tells me to fight. And I do. And He calls me forward and I fight again. And really . . . now I think I could handle it so much easier if I was just waiting. If He was doing everything.

I know how I sound. I sound bleak right now. But I was thinking earlier, at one of my low points today, if I'd known when I met Heather exactly how I'd feel right now, would I have done it all again.

In a heartbeat.

She's given me some of the happiest times of my life. She is wonderful and beautiful and without equal. I wouldn't trade my worst minute with her for an ounce less of this pain.

I love you.

What now?

Today was . . . wonderful, which, is a great thing for me to be able to say.

I tried to wrap myself in Jesus all day, wanting to be near, to be full, to tune into His voice. My day started with this prayer journal entry:

"You, Lord, are my God and my King. I want to live in Your Holy presence."

As I went around reading and doing chores for my mom and playing with Josheb, I kept seeking God in my heart. "Where are You in all of this? What is my next step? What am I to do?" Yet more so just . . . trying to be on Him, not looking for answers, just to be together.

My run today was a struggle. Almost as soon as I started my knee was hurting. Which I just took as a cue that I needed to be doing what I was. I prayed as I listened to the music. Trying to center my heart and my mind on nothing but Christ. And the more my knee hurt, the faster I ran, the more I told Satan just what I thought of Him. The more I tried to hear my God. I nearly doubled my distance from yesterday.

When I got back Bonnie texted me, saying that we were going to worship at Brittany's. And I was definitely in. Its something I needed in general, but here I am seeking and it just gets served up. Well alright. Let's go.

Long story short, something came up and I ended up finding Heather's number. So I hang out with moms a little and then head to Brittany's, so very ready.

The Lord was all over that place, I can't express how thankful I am that I went, and for what happened there. The Lord is at work.

When we finally get started, Daniel mentions how today he just realized he needed this and tells a little of what happened. And as I'm thinking it, Bonnie kind of guffaws. And then opens up a little about what her and Rachel and Nick and I have been discussing lately. And how we'd settled on Thursday nights, and now other people in our very set God group independently come upon the same notion. As we began to sing I wrote in my prayer journal: "You are the God of calling and confirmation."

Right at the beginning I came to God and told Him I wanted a clear heart and mind to worship. I wanted to have nothing on me but Him. As the 6 of us sang and prayed, it happened. I don't know for how long, but I didn't think about anything but my sweet Lord. Everything else just fell away. Stuff that should have been plaguing me was just plain gone. And it was wonderful. It was honest, it was genuine, and it was all God.

After a fair amount of time just in worship, Daniel began to pray. And he just kept going. I don't say that in a negative way, it was great and it needed to be said. It was very much of the spirit. A good ways into I felt the tug on my heart. I grabbed pj and prayed, "Let me hear from You Lord, just the next step." All day the idea of calling her was playing on my mind, so I was mainly focused on an answer to that, but I'd take anything, just to see what I was to do.

As Daniel finishes, Kolby and Josh show up and we decide to close in gathered prayer. He asks what people's requests are, and after a few people I say, "guidance." And tell that God seems to have given me this thing I have no idea what to do with. Daniel responds, "That's weird, I got the feeling when I was praying, that you needed guidance." And then he said something, "And God's not pulling you one way?" I responded quickly that I was looking for an outside source, something I couldn't chalk up to my own heart. But inside. It was striking. "C'mon. You've been all with God and this is how you feel. That means something." But I let it go.

As a part of what proceeded we all huddled to pray over Kolby and Emily. We prayed for a number of things, but they needed guidance as well. As someone prays, that ask for all things to be lifted, and for clarity to enter in. I can feel the prayer, the Spirit move from Kolby's head up my arm and shake my body. "Call her."

As we go back to finish requests and then pray I can feel it. I look forward and I'm not sure I can take another minute, much less another day. This is where the fight is. Tomorrow there will be nothing. If you wait, you won't.

Then we circle up for prayer, and I close with two scripture readings. As soon as I'm done Brittany speaks up. She says she doesn't know why, but this song is all over her heart. I don't exactly remember the lyrics, because at first I wasn't paying much attention. But then Bonnie was talking about what Brittany had said, that a nearly identical phrase had been on her heart. And that's when I heard it. Bonnie was talking about an overflowing cup. The second line of the song was about drinking from the cup Jesus holds.

Why is this significant?

When I was at Lake Champion, there was a point where I was struggling with what to do about Heather, so I talked to Beth Ann about it. Beth Ann is the camp's full time retail person who I got to know last year as the town runner. As we talk in the dungeon, I tell her the story of how Heather and I met, and how we'd been talking. And she said something that has stuck with me. "The odds of you guys meeting on your own are insignificantly small. God moved heaven and earth, and temporarily altered your personalities to bring you together. Why would He give you this cup if He didn't intend for you to drink from it?"

Yup. And that spurred me to seek confirmation in other places, which I got. Undeniably.

And now I hear it. As I wonder if I am to call. "Drink from the cup."

We sing a few more songs and then decide to go break bread together. But I know I have something else to do.

So I call Heather.

And . . .

I get her voicemail.

Kind of upsetting. During worship I had all these visions of her answering and us just picking up and running. Of feeling amazing. Of things just being obvious and beginning to work out. No dice.

I had dreaded this. I had no idea what to say if I got her, much less if I got her voicemail. So I left a message. I basically said what had happened. That I didn't know exactly what I was calling to say, just that God had told me to. But I knew I had to say something, so I just said my heart. I told her I missed her and that I loved her. And that I was still fighting for her. I said I hoped she was doing well and that I would like to talk to her, and then I hung up.

I immediately went to meet up with my friends. On the drive over my head was racing. Am I fighting the right fight? What if its something else? Did I hear you wrong about how to fight for her? Was I wrong to call? How can she be so upset? I didn't do anything to her, how can she be like that?

But most of all, it was, what now?

Dinner was fun. I'd already eaten so I just had desert and sweet tea. Which was a good decision. And then a few of us headed over to Brittany's to watch a stupid movie and laugh and just be friends.

I had a great night. Wonderful. God was all over the worship, and everyone could feel it. Crazy little things like Daniel using this phrase that had been on my heart all day, or maybe all week. "We have to quit playing church." Everyone was touched, everyone was with the Lord.

Dinner and hanging out after were filled with great fellowship. Good laughs and great little shared moments.

I had a great night. And yet . . . now that I've done this. Now that I've done the only thing I knew to do, the only thing I could hear, and nothing's come of it, I have to ask. What now?

I know I don't want anyone else. Not a chance. I don't want to settle for some lesser woman. But there just seems to be no hope.

Then again . . . I couldn't have heard wrong. There's been to much. The messages that she has been and will be the one. The message to fight. The move to call.

But I did . . . and nothing happened. So what now?

How do I fight tomorrow, with nothing left to do. Praying is getting old. You can only feel like you're talking to a wall for so long.

I'm not giving up. I'll die before I give up, I just . . . I don't know how to fight this.

Someone tell me I'm not crazy. Tell me this is all real. Tell me I haven't heard everything wrong.

I'll close with these lyrics I wrote tonight while we worshiped:

"Let there be light in this darkness,
bring a calm into this storm
don't pull me out before I'm done
just let me feel that you're near."

Off the hook

I have no idea how to start this post. I know where it goes. I know what needs to be said. But I don't know where it starts.

Yesterday both was and was not what I was expecting. After everything that happened Tuesday I decided that I was going to spend a pretty seriuos amount of time with God yesterday. Some of it was just kneeling before the throne and worshiping. Some of it was looking for answers. I kept asking what the next step is. I kept asking about specific things I could do next and then opening my Bible to see if God would answer. And the verdict? Well . . . there was some stuff that could have been, but . . . I just don't know you know.

I realized yesterday that I forgot to tell two things. One is that the other night while I was driving home I was wondering about if God was telling me how things would work out with Heather, why? So I get home and go to spend time with God and I open my Bible. I was in John 14, and the verse that caught my attention was v. 29: "I have told you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe." Mmmmkay.

So then I had another dream, where Heather and I were reunited. Which wouldn't be interesting, except when Jonathan and I had lunch the other day he mentioned something. Which was that after his fiancee left him he dreamed about her almost every night. And I don't. I have only, only had dreams when I prayed about it before. And not just when I was thinking about it, because some nights I've laid there not able to get it off my mind, and no dream. But I just pushed those things out, like everything else.

Anyhow, last night I went back to GodWhy for the first time in two weeks. I enjoyed seeing Stephen and Adam but . . . I just can't help but have this feeling that I fit in less there than I do anywhere else. And not only that, but because of everything that had happened I was looking for God to speak there. After all, I'm looking for word on the next step. But nothing.

So I come home and find a message from Emily. It was slightly confusing so I said as much, and then went to spend time with God. I spent about an hour and a half worshiping and reading and praying and listening to a Kairos sermon. I was expecting to hear something. And maybe I did, but if so it just sounded too much like personal inclination. Should I call? "yes" well yeah sure.

I'm so close, but I still feel I need external revelation right now. So I repeated something to God I'd thought a few times that day. "What I need, is someone who knows nothing to just walk up and say, 'You should call. Ha, that was weird, I have no idea who you are.'" 'Cause that would be great.

I go downstairs and find another message from Emily. Basically telling me I'm an idiot if I don't call, excpet nicer. She did temper it by saying she had held off because she wanted to be giving advice from God and not from her own wisdom. But still . . . it was pretty close to what I asked for. And that's two people who've said it.

Not to mention . . . this makes two areas of my life where I think there might be a call, that have confirmations of negative reactions.

Negative reaction confirmation is the idea that one way to test whether something is God is whether or not you want to do it. For instance, when God called Moses, Moses was all like, "Nah man, I've got a speech impediment, and I'm already like 80, so . . . you know."

And when God called Jeremiah, Jeremiah responded, "Um . . . I'm just a kid, I think you have the wrong number."

I've been thinking about the idea of speaking at this service if we get it going and . . . I don't think I'm ready. I don't know what to say, I don't think I can do it like it needs to be done. And honestly, that makes me feel better about doing it. It makes it less likely that the desire is my own pride and not God's calling, because I think I can't.

And the thought of calling Heather is similar. When I think of it, all I can focus on is the negatives. "If she doesn't answer I'll be crushed, I won't know what to do." "If she does answer and is a jerk, that'll be worse." "If she answers and we mend, well . . . I'm happy with things now, I don't want her back." "And if she answers, I have literally no idea what I would say. To the point that I think I might say, 'I didn't call to say anything, I called because I was told to.'" And . . . it makes me feel a little better about it, but not much.

I almost called her last night, but I chickened out. And then I was thinking, okay, call her today. But I can find excuses. Not tonight because she'll be busy with women's bible study. Tomorrow night she'll be at work. Saturday night I can't be sure I could reach her. Sunday night she has Life Group. Monday night she'll have homework. I've got a million of 'em.

But then I get a text from Bonnie. Worship tonight at Brittany's. This is exactly what I need. And I start thinking, I'll know when I'm there, but I have to be ready to call her. So I'm pumping myself up, thinking God will confirm it while I'm there, and then a thought strikes me.

I don't have her number.

I deleted it from my phone because it hurt too much to see it and now I don't have it.

I guess I'm off the hook. Why do I just feel like a coward?

I want to take the next step . . . but I want it to be His step, not mine. That's all I'm waiting on. I know, that when I follow God I have nothing to fear, but if I take a step on my own . . . I've felt those consequences. I am terrified.

Going to war

I should have written last night. Because last night everything was fresh and it was charged up. Now its a little a little duller, and already I'm starting to doubt if what happened really did. But I didn't blog last night. I watched some stupid tv and scribbled some lyrics and farted around.

The last few days, since Sunday really, I've been struggling with this feeling. I wanted to fight. Sometimes it was physical, but if I examined it at all I'd realize it was more. I remember on Sunday, at the end of church I just had this thought of wanting to tear down and destroy every stronghold Satan has built. I wanted to reap destruction on his finite little kingdom. But as the days passed, I started to struggle with it a little. I felt like I was without a fight.

I prayed yesterday, asking God to give me the direction, to show me where the fight was. As much damage as I can deal physically, I wanted to do a million times more spiritually, but I just saw no outlet.

I'd also been feeling this distance from God. Here are two prayer journal entries from Monday:

"I feel so far away from You. Its not what I want. Please God, make this right, whatever that means. Give me hope, give me pease, give me something." "Don't turn away. Please just show me Your love. I feel so far away."

So that's where I was yesterday. And then we go to Kairos.

We were already planning to get there a little early, and then made really good time, so when we arrived we grabbed seats in the second row.

As worship started I felt heavy. I wanted to be there, I wanted to be lost in it, but I felt this distance. And I couldn't seem to get Heather off of my mind. So much so that I grabbed my notecard and wrote, "Let it all go. Take it all from me. I want to worship with an undivided heart." It kind of worked, but not really.

When Mike began talking he was saying how we're always worried about what we get out of worship. And that was me. There I was, I'd come here for something, and I felt like it might not come. Turns out I just had to wait a little.

So what was the meat of the message last night? I'm honestly not sure you'll believe me.

Mike mentioned that when he first started teaching on Revelation, people would come up to him and say it was too big and too complicated and too metaphorical. And he'd just ask them if they ever felt the dragon lurking, waiting there to devour them. "And every one of you," he said. "Can feel him. You know he's there. You have a dragon chasing you."

He talked about the woman in Revelation 12. He talked about how we always view being in the wilderness as punishment, but its often protection and preparation. Yeah, another tie-in.

And then he comes to it. "Satan's mindest," he says, "is 'I will destroy His children. Because nothing will hurt Him more.'" "There is a fight coming, and you have to be ready."

Really?

A fight?

And that was the message. Mike talked about being ready for the fight. He talked about the necessity of remaining, no matter how much you wanted to give up.

This is wide-eyed wonder.

And yet . . . I was still holding back. I've realized now I'd built up this little wall, that even at that point, even as it struck me at my heart and hit me emotionally and I knew I had to fight . . . somewhere inside I said, "maybe its not for her."

Even so, I was a goner for the closing worship. I sand so hard. I meant it so much. At first I just closed my eyes and sat and listened. I thought about it all and prayed for God to prepare me. I stood with the tears drying in my eyes. The spirit of worship there at the end . . . everybody felt it. Everyone was effected. It felt like the whole room could explode at any moment. The Holy Spirit was there.

As we left we were in high spirits. The ride home was incredible. We all laughed so hard, just talking and joking and beatboxing and freestyling. Oh yes.

A little after I got home, Bonnie IMed me. "I'm caught up on your blog. After tonight I think you should call her."

And if I needed it, there it is. Its not just me.

I prayed. I prayed God would do something if I needed to be fighting. And here it is.

And yet I'm still trying to doubt. I'm still trying to tell myself that maybe its a different fight. Maybe its just my about my walk with Him. Or ministry. Or . . . whatever.

And now that I'm faced with the possibility of having to initiat everything . . . not only am I scared, I'm not sure I want to. I ask myself if I was really happy with her. If I really want to be with her. But finally, I know where those thoughts come from. This feels good.

Am I going to call her? Not today at least. I'm scared. I'm scared she won't answer and I'll struggle with that feeling. Just as much if not more, I'm worried she'd answer. I have no idea what I'd say. It'd be different if she called me. She'd have something to say, but . . . if I call her? What could I say?

But Bonnie said something that I had already realized, which means its something I have to stick to. It doesn't matter how this turns out. I can't think about it. I just have to do it. Even though I'm not entirely sure what it is right now. I don't know what the next move is. Do I pray for her? Do I write a letter? Do I call? I don't know.

But . . . as if I needed more confirmation, as I was thinking last night about how I needed to do this without knowing how it would turn out, I opened my bible. Hebrews 11. This passage was highlighted:

"By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going."

I've never highlighted anything in that Bible. Which means someone else did it.

And it all ties in. Emily talked to me about Abraham's faith when God just said "go." The message of preperation in the wilderness. And now the fight. I prayed for confirmation . . . and I really don't think I can deny it anymore.

But I'm not just going to fight. I'm going to war. Satan will tremble. For the Lord is mighty, and I am His warrior.

And maybe there is nothing

I feel like I have a lot to write, and yet I feel like I have nothing. And this is me.

I love Sundays. I love going to church. I love doing whatever in the afternoons. I love knowing that I'm going to have good fellowship and feel blessed those nights. And today was just one of those days that confirms those things in a quiet way.

Worship was pretty fantastic. The songs were just pretty jammin, and there was this general good feel going on that was really sweet. Every body seemed to have that same feel. Then they had the prayer team come up, and opened up the communion stations and played a modified version of "Freedom Reigns." I love worshiping down on my knees, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I got down on my knees between the chairs and put my hands over my head and just sung my heart out. I kept praying. I kept saying, "God, set me free."

I prayed to be released of sins that plague me, like judgement and pride. I prayed most to be released from all this with Heather. To just have her wiped off my heart. But it didn't work. She was still there. With this quiet assuredness. With this desire to contact her. With this lack of despair about it. And more so, I had this moment where I just knew that what didn't fit about this place was that she's supposed to be here. That she's never been to a church like this and worshiped likes this and she needs to be here because she'd love it. That she needs to be a part of this group because I'm enough of a background here she wouldn't be intimidated, and she'd laugh so hard. That she's supposed to be here. And I just wanted all of that to go away.

I just wanted to focus on Jesus. I just wanted to be free of it all. But no matter how hard I prayed, it never left. No matter how much I tried to turn my heart to nothing but Him, the more I found her there. At one point I thought it had worked, I thought it all left. But as soon as I tried to worship, I just realized I'd numbed myself out from everything, and then it was back. Great. I'm not sure what to make of it, but I'm trying to not make anything.

The message was good, and I feel like it should have shot right into my heart. Aaron was talking about wisdom, and seeing God clearly . . . but I just kind of glazed over.

Sometimes I feel like I've gotten a handle on it. Sometimes I get my mind to a place and I can convince myself, "don't dig up in doubt what you planted in faith." "Everything that stands against is circumstantial, and here's everything God has ever done to say she was it. How can you deny?" And yet I do. But my memory lasts about 10 seconds.

If I think I'm suppose to contact her, all I can think is, "She hates you, you'll just embarrass yourself." or "If its ever going to happen it has to be her." I'll admit it, I'm scared. But part of me is . . . part of me is happy like this. On Friday night I was so happy not only that Heather wasn't there, but that I didn't have that attachment. But I can't be alone forever, and I can't even make my heart go anywhere else. I try. I try to develop crushes and . . .

I wish I could never talk about this again.

I've had a lot of time to think over the last few days, and time to listen to some great music, a lot of new stuff.

I was thinking of God showing me Jeremiah so much, and telling me I was looking at myself. I remembered this conversation I had last summer with this girl. She yelled at me and told me that I was a "breaker." That all I did was break things down and hurt people. And there's truth in that.

And some of its good. Some of it is just saying what unpopular but needs to be heard. Some of it is telling a friend that he's way out of line and needs to get his act together. But some of it is bad.

Tonight Randall Goodgame and Amy Stroup played at the church, to help the Mocha Club. After it we went out to Cheddar's and then came back to play wonderful Four Sqaure. At some point I realized I felt out of place. Not in the way I typically do. But more like something was wrong with me, like I was putting everyone off. I thought about it as I squared away when I got home. I remembered this conversation I had with Jill last summer.

I don't remember where we were, but I think it was the picnic tables behind the dinning hall. And we were talking about senses of humor. We both had committed to positivising our humor during the month, and whenever we said bad things we'd slap each other's wrists. It was a good decision and it was fun and it worked. But we were talking about whether or not we were taking it far enough. We started talking about sarcasm and whether or not it was ever a good form of humor. And I'm starting to wonder. I'm starting to wonder if I like any joke I ever make.

This weekend I met this girl I won't name. Long story short it became apparent that she was a feminist. And I, having a ridiculously irreverent sense of humor, don't even think twice about messing with this girl I've just met. She, of course, quickly decides that even if I'm not an outright chauvinist, I'm at least subconsciously patriarchal and disrespectful towards women. And since she decided this, she also decided I must be an idiot. At one point she mentioned the novel 'Pride and Prejudice' and then, without really pausing, she turns around and says, "you know, Jane Austen." And then she pauses for just a second, looking at me. "The famous novelist." Another half a breath. "Oh nevermind." I think she may have supplied my half of the conversation. I wasn't even aware I was supposed to say anything.

I thought of sticking up for myself. I thought of saying anything. But I didn't, resigning myself to, "What do I care what she thinks?" But then today I was thinking about it again. What if I write a book one day and she tells her friend what a stupid woman hater I am? Does that matter?

Anyhow, that and how I felt tonight just combined to put me in this place of wondering. Do I like the jokes I make? Do I like the way I treat anyone? Should I change? Can I change?

But reflecting on my interactions with that girl this weekend, and some interactions tonight gave rise to another thought. And this one relates to my shifting mind with Heather and my constant deafness to God. I wrote the beginnings of a song in my notebook I have no idea how long ago and it goes like this:

"I am just a surface, nothing more, no sweeping depth
I will shift and bend and break
rest assured that nothing lasts
I stand on sand, it gives and sinks
but if you wait and watch you'll see
there is no difference between that sorry, shifting sand and me."

I don't know. Sometimes I feel like that. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes . . . if I really steady myself I think I can get a handle on it. In part I'm incredibly simple and easy to understand, but in part there's just no hope you've ever got me pinned.

At the heart of it all everything I am comes down to Christ. If you want to know me, just go there, because that's what I'm reaching towards. That's what I want to look like. That's what I want to define me. And ultimately it does. There's no area of my life left untouched by it, and even though I'm not perfect at it, nothing matters more.

Then again, there are particular elements of the man He is making me. And sometimes I just have to wonder if anybody knows me any better than that girl from this weekend does. And sometimes its my fault. And sometimes its just because there's too much. I am not so straightforward. There's all these dichotomies you never see together. I've worked as a river guide and yet I'm probably the only guy under 40 who uses a dresser valet. Those things don't belong together. I'm glad I am this way, but its kind of confusing.

I took the long way home tonight. Just driving through the still night air and listening to my music. I was practicing screaming and have started to get a pretty good handle on changing pitches, which is pretty encouraging.

I kept listening to this set of four songs on the way home. "The Messenger" by Thrice. "Desperate Times, Desperate Measures" by Underoath, and "After The Devil Beats His Wife" and "You Think You're Nickel Slick" by emery.

And its more than just how incredible those songs are musically. There's something in the lyrics. They speak to where I am right now, though I'm not always sure of how.

Amy Stroup introed this song tonight where she talked about cathing a rythym with God. Not trying to see to far ahead and yet not resting back and going to slow on what you've been given. And I realized I'm not quite there. I'm not hitting my rythym. I'm actually failing on both sides. And as I sit here I don't feel close to Him. Kind of far away actually. And I don't like it.

I'm going to go read the Letter and pray and worship. You should probably do the same.