Holy freaking amazing-explosion crapness (part 2)

It started Friday night, with this girl who goes to GodWhy. And then yesterday whith this girl I met. And then tonight, from a freaking billion places. Girls from my past and present and all this hooplah. Multiple girls I swore to myself I'd never ask out. I knew I shouldn't. But really, my urge to date is through the roof.

And when I think about it . . . yes I feel bad. But not like I'd be cheating. Like I'd be rebelling. This isn't about Heather, forget her. This is about God. That's why I'm fighting.

I've been listening emery all the freaking time the last few days, especially this one song called "Studying Politics," which is about the guy's girlfriend cheating on him, but except for one line is really applicable to any betrayal. And there's this one line. "You'd like to think that you're the best/ part of me, but I confess/ there is nothing left of you here." And sure as crap that's where I am. I was kind of there before the letter, but now . . . . This whole fighting thing has nothing to do with her. I don't think she's worth it. I don't want to. But God said it, so I'm doing it.

But that urge to date. Would it be so wrong? Alissa has a friend coming in to town soon, and I can only imagine how cute that girl will be. For reals. What freaking crap.

So anyhow, the letter did not ruin my Friday. I didn't even think about it the rest of the night. I just went and hung out and had an amazing night. Talking with and meeting people. Then sitting around the fire and doing more of that. And then singing songs from my tween and teenage years with the other older ones. So great. And I kept eyeing "girl who's name I don't know yet," and she was totally doing it to. Oh well right?

So I get home pretty late on Friday night but I decide to spend some time with God. And I'm praying and reading. And I ask God about this whole fight thing, and He takes me to Ezekial 2, which talks about taking a message to a rebellious people, and speaking regardless of if they listen. And then He takes me to Psalms, where the psalmsist talks about his enemy rebelling against God, not directly, but just because he attacked the psalmist. (You go after God's kids, you go after Him.) So then He leads me to 2 Chronicles 29, which talks about Hezekiah. And I read a little bit but I don't get much out of it.

So I close my Bible and open it again, this time to 2 Kings 19 . . . which is also about Hezekiah. So now I'm thinking . . . alright, I guess you wanted me to know this was for me and not just random. So in the story this king named Sennacherib wants to kill Hezekiah and destroy Judah and Jerusalem, and he sends Hezekiah a letter to that effect, part of which tells H not to be decieved by his god. And then verse 14-19:

"Hezekiah received the letter from the messengers and read it. Then he went up to the temple of the Lord and spread it out before the Lord. And Hezekiah prayged to the Lord: 'O Lord, God of Israel, enthroned between the cherubim, you alone are God over all the kingdoms of eath. You have made heaven and earth. Give ear, O Lord, and hear; open your eyes O Lord, and see; listen to the words Sennacherib has sent to instul the living God. It is true, O Lord, that the Assyrian kings have laid wase these nations and their lands. They have thrown their gods into the fire and destroyed the, for they were not gods but only wood and stone, fashioned by men's hands. Now, O Lord our God, deliver us from his hand, so that all kingdoms on earth my know that you alone, O Lord, are God."

And I knew it was for me. So I vowed to do it, I said to myself that soon I would have private worhsip time and I'd do what Hezekiah did.

Saturday was great. My mom and brother and I went down to this barbeque at the school for the bling in Donelson. Then I goofed around in the afternoon and then we had Jonathan's birthday party over at Dan and Alissas. Freaking fun as all get out. I laughed so hard.

I got up late but still made it to church early, so excited to be there and to worship and draw close to God. And worship was amazing. I had this undivided heart and just sang out and could feel God, so close and so loving. And Aaron's message was good and encouraging, again about Joseph and how God plans to prosper us. And then the prayer time at the end. And I felt God calling me, and low and behold I'd accidently slipped the letter into my Bible along with some other papers in the rush to leave.

So I took it up and spread it out on the stage (altar). I opened my Bible and read Hezekiah's prayer, personalizing it. Then I read the whole story 3 or 4 for times over and then just bowed my head and prayed.

And that was it. Nothing happened, no word from God. But I did what I was supposed to and I feel great.

Functionally the rest of the day was great. Little nap and some video games, lunch at Shane's with my moms. First young adults in the church's new space, which was a good time. We had some new people and really opened up and learned and enjoyed each other, a great time. Then some of us grabbed some food and went to see the new Terminator movie.

But today had even more crazy awesomeness. One line of Aaron's message pointed out how God took Joseph from a prisoner to the ruler of Egypt in an hour, and he said God could do that for us.

And then this after noon two amazing things happen. My brother tells me this woman who knows this guy Brian works for wants somebody to help her out the same way he does. So that's not a great opportunity, but its very solid.

And then I get an email from Jenn, the head of CAKE at GodWhy.

"Zack - Hi, It's Jenn from GodWhy. It has come to my attention that you have some experience with youth centers/ministries/shelters/events. So, I wanted to invite you on an adventure. A business man from our church lives in Westmorland and noticed a lack of activities for youth and young adults in the area. He has built a building to somewhat immolate Rockettown, and their ministry. He hired a director from CA, and he has done nothing and now has bailed, leaving this man with a building opening in two months, and no marketing, plans, contacts, touching base with principals, bands, etc.. No decor, paint, hours, or staff. Money is not the issue with this guy, and his heart is awesome, but he [needs help putting everything together]. So, last week I assembled a team to get EVERYTHING together over the summer and open in August. Yes, there are employment opportunities, but no promises. There is a great adventure though! If you are interested in giving input, or helping in any way let me know.
Jenn"

Bam!!! And just earlier in the day and yesterday I was struggling with wanting a purpose and adventure. And then . . . God is freaking crazy!!! And this opporunity is near perfect. I have experience with all that stuff and . . . just nuts man. Its far less solid but . . . it seems so possible. God is good.

Then when I get back tonight I have this great conversation with Jill. And with three good friends from high school I've been out of contact with for a long time, and I have plans to see them all sometime this week. See . . . holy freaking explosion of amazing.

So anyhow, pray for me dear friends. God is dangling these blessings, enough that they could crush me. He is so good!

Holy freaking amazing-explosion crapness (part 1)

Today definitely ranks as one of my top non-Young Life camp days ever. Just so freaking good. Its been a great weekend too. I wish every weekend could be more like this.

I'd been looking forward to Friday for a long time. GodWhy's young adult group, CAKE, was having a cookout. I'm not sure I can get across how excited I was to go and be a part of and get to meet some new people and get to know those people better.

Now a little primer for what comes next. I've still been dealing with feeling closed off and kind of dulled out. Like I'd turned my brain or my heart off to just get rid of everything. And I was watching the Simpsons, which I never watch because I haven't found it funny in years, but I was. And Homer prayed to God and asked him for a sign to tell him a particular thing. And then a guy puts out a sign that has the words Homer had just used. And I thought, wouldn't it be great if God would do something like that for me. And I hadn't really been struggling with any of this stuff, but still I just thought it would be nice. Really cut the confusion.

So on Friday I spend the whole day feeling manly because I did yard work and helped my brother burn this GIANT brush pile in the backyard. And I carried a log with a freaking chain. It doesn't get much better than that.

Later I worked out (don't ask where the energy came from) and went to Publix to get ingrediants to make this sweet mexi-dip I do (original recipe thank you very much). On my way back I look over to my left and see a church sign. I hate those freaking corny church letter signs, and that church is always bad. But without even making a decision I suddenly realize I've read their sign. And it said, "You can't celebreate victory until you've fought the battle." And I'm like, ha, that's funny cause . . . wait . . . what?

And still a part of me wants to chalk it up to coincidence and reading into things.

I am just a leaf in the wind.

Then I get home and find a small package from Heather. Inside is the ring I proposed with and a letter.

I got kind of worked up. I was so worried about reading it. I was so nervous I'd be really upset and it would ruin my night. At first I just set it aside and said I wasn't going to read it. I mean she sent the ring, I knew what it said. But I'm so curious, I just had to read it. And here's what it said:

"Zach,
I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write this. I am sorry for all the pain I have cause you. If I had only stayed true to my uncertainty, when you gave me the ultimatum of committing to marry you, and let you break up with me, none of this would've have happened. [Interjection by Zach: that is a little distorted, that is not what happened] But I was naieve, so naieve in the world of love. So I fought to keep you because I wanted it to work. But then I began to bury things and I lost myself. Zach if we are truely honest with ourselves then we can easily see how deeply unhappy we both were. You cannot say that it was for lack of a job that you were unhappy, or at least not the entirity of it. No, we are not compatible. Remember all our differences and remember and think on all my flaws but most especially on that one deep flaw that you saw in me, but would never tell me. It started as a fairy tale for me, but I must be completely honest, by January I was a shadow of myself and completely miserable, although it was buried so deep I didn't acknowledge it. I know you were too. So I cannot marry you, nor can we have any kind of relationship in the future. Release me from your heart. I want so much for you to be happy, successful and have a good life. God has the power and wants to heal and restore you. I am sorry that I have to block communication so completely, but it is necessary for us both to heal and move on in the new and separate ways God calls us.
Goodbye"

Let me preface everything I am about to say with this. I've struggled with this as I've been following Christ, but all my life I've been really, really good at getting to people. If I want someone to hurt, they will. I know what to say, I know what to do. Its a terrible gift. And I have to fight really hard to not do those things. When I first called Al and told him about all this, he said he knew I wasn't the type, but I shouldn't speak ill of her in case we got back together. And then God tells me to fight, and I can't speak against her. But this letter makes me want to. It makes me want to say all kinds of mean things. And do mean things. I even thought about resealing it in an identical envelope and mailing it back to look like I hadn't read it, because I know that would bake her noodle. And I know other things I could do. And my urge to bear my fangs is pretty severe. But I'm biting my tongue, even here.

What's amazing though, really amazing, is that it didn't bug me. Yeah I've gotten a little mad at her at times. And right afterwards I did ask God if I'd heard right in my prayer journal. But I really wasn't that upset. Almost as soon as I finished it I went downstairs and was laughing with my mom. And hasn't really come back since. I'm not burying it. I just don't care. It doesn't bug me. At all.

If God will reconcile us then everything she said doesn't mean crap. And if not . . . well . . . I just don't care. If not those words mean nothing.

Now I'm not going to say much about the letter, because I want your thoughts, but I'll say this. I'm not sure its genuine. Just read it two ways, one as she honestly believes everything, and one as her being so naive that she sent me an "its not you, its me" letter. Either way, there is this shifting reality of what the cause for all this is. Which is pretty funny . . . and sad.

Another thing I want to say is this. I think its abosolutely histerical how well I know that woman. You should all remember me saying recently how I got the urge to call and tell her how I really felt. Its because I knew that she'd take me contacting her the wrong way. The last day we talked she told me I was fighting for her because I just couldn't let go. How insulting. What would I do if I loved you? So when I called her that night, I knew what she'd think. That I was hurting and miserable without her and blah blah blah. And then she tells me to move on and ask God to heal me. And that part kind of bugs me. How dare she assume to know how I feel and where I've been. I've asked for that plenty. It makes me want to tell her how many times I've asked God if He was sure about her. How many times I've lamented over haivng to fight for her. And this letter went a long way in me complaining to God that she wasn't worth it. But despite that anger, its still funny that I knew that's what she'd think.

It makes me think, I have lamented hear about her not talking to me, but I've realized this is no different than when we were together. She never listened to me then either. Almost every time we had an argument or something, we'd have to go through at least 5 rounds of me restating myself because she heard who knows what.

So you all read and give me your impressions. And as for whether its genuine I really just meant the part where she focueses on her flaws instead of taking me to task. Either way . . . I think the letter is kind of pathetic. Sorry if that's too harsh, its just the way it is. She didn't even sign her name.

So tonight I was talking to Jill, who I seriously love dearly, and we were talking about the letter, and I told her something I'd been thinking for a while but this letter really solidifies for me. She doesn't mention God or prayer but once, and then only as a cultural invocation, just like politicians. "We're praying for you in this time." "We're praying for your future." "God bless America." Cultural religion. Meaningless.

My dog is dreaming right now, he is very quietly barking and growling. Hilarious.

Anyhow it brought me back to something that's been on my mind a lot. Christians need to quit approaching dating in this way. We need to quit weighing personality traits and compatabilities. We need to quit looking at mistakes and making them deal breakers. We need to pray. And then we need to listen. And whatever God says, that's it. No matter what. Just like anything else. We can be such idiots. I'm sure Hosea didn't want to marry Gomer, but he did as he was told.

Along the same lines, my urge to date is through the roof.

Blooger.com

It turns out that I do not keep this on "blooger.com," which is kind of sad, because that would be great.


Haha, I started this post on Tuesday night . . . or Wednesday night . . . I don't know, it is now late Saturday and I'm coming back to it. With at least one more post I HAVE to write, though perhaps not tonight.

I was in such a loopy mood when I started this, I was going nuts, but now I've calmed down a little. Not much though.

So Tuesday night was great. Rachel was indisposed for good reason, Nick was stuck in Clarksville doing crap, and Bonnie was under the weather (literally, a little black rain cloud was following her.) I thought about not going to Kairos, but then I realized how stupid that was. Church is church. Worship is worship, whether you know anyone or not. "There are no strangers of God."

But it did make me aware of something, in combination with a question my mom asked me. We had not met anyone from Kairos. Now some of that is obviously the nature of the setup. (i.e. size and small group basis) it doesn't create organic relationship initiations. But some of it is the age group. Young adults, in general, don't reach out to the people right around them. No one turns and talks to the people around them they don't know. And its crap. Why do we do that?

By and large our generation is pretty bad at relationships, at inception and long term maintenance. We don't reach out. And then relationships that we do have, if they are not forcibly entwined are not pursued. Nearly everyone has problems with calling people, or even writing emails, with friends that they don't see on a regular basis. I've known that part of things for a long time, and I think I've figured part of it out. The possibility of communication is so open and available to our generation that we become apathetic. Because there is no real effort that physically has to be made (letter writing, land line calling) we do not make the emotional commitment it takes to use the "easy" methods (instant messengers, email).

Even immediate relationships are impeded by texting and data phones. Those advancements allow us to be everywhere, so that we may be truly nowhere.

Now I say we had not because I met these two dudes. Ben and Mark. They were sitting in front of me, but I honestly forgot their names (I'm usually so good with names). But then when I left I needed to get gas (I was lucky I made it down there) and they stopped at the gas station, so it was a pretty cool moment. Makes me wonder, ya know?

The service itself was great. There were no startling revelations or great calls, it was just a good, uplifting service. As good as it gets without ripping at your core. The worship was unreal. So passionate and heartfelt. It was wonderful. And my heart and head were so clear for it. very exciting.

Mike's message was good. I'm not sure I can identify a main point. I know I can't identify any great things that just spoke to me and cleared/stirred my heart. There were lots of great quotes, lots of great thisng that did give little stirrings, that I wondered if I was missing my grand point. It was great, just different.

I've been thinking lately how I've quit doing what I know this will one day have to really be. Actual spiritual reflections. Great things that need to be shared, because I became focused on the break up and the fight and all that crap. Rightfully so because its a big charge, and it matters, and I still have no freaking clue what to do. But its kind of crappy that I was not prone to write more about Mike's message.

He had this one quote I just loved. "When God says it, it is." Think of creation, think of prophecies where God tells of coming destruction in the present tense. Nothing can stand against Him.

So why am I worried about this fight? But am I really worried? I don't even think about it anymore. I don't have anything to do for it. I don't really want to be doing it. But I haven't been told any different. Whatever . . . right?

This weeks' been weird, ending great though. Absolutely amazing. I'm still feeling . . . feeling like I'm not quite where I need to be. Like something is missing, like I don't totally feel. I don't write in my prayer journal as much, I don't think as much. Its weird, I don't know what to do really.

I only have two thoughts to relate from the past week about "her" and that whole situation. So I got told to fight, I'm pretty comfortable not doubting that, and I seem to be told these other things, about how it ends . . . so what the heck is up? If this is what I'm getting, what the heck is going on with her? What is she hearing?

Also . . . I'm worried . . . I'm worrid about what happens when . . . if . . . this is wrong. About if the real future Mrs. Frank or someone who knows her is seeing all of this, reading all of this, and its just going to make a mess of things. What a joke.

Oh well, I know what I was told. Not sure what to do with it, but I know what I was told.

So I have a lot to talk about, about Friday and Sat, about more things that happened and some thoughts. Things you all definitely want to know. So how do I enticed you to come back and read more? With this:

On Friday I got a letter from Heather.

"Tell me are you free?" - 'Firebreather' by Thrice

News flash: I disappeared for almost a week. Oh really? Yes really. Spectacularo.



I come back here again to write, and I have a sense of trepidation. I'm not even totally sure about what. Do I have anything to say? I'm already starting to feel worse. I don't want to put out. urrrgh.



So what's the last week been like? Crap. Pretty much. Or not, it wasn't that bad. I don't know.



I did some fighting this week, with a finishing record of 1 submission, 2 TKOs, and 2 KOs, so that was pretty swell.



And Tuesday should have been an upswing. Kairos was legit. The worship was great and Mike's message was as good as you expect. But no post. Why? It just didn't stick.



It should have . . . as I look back at the message was, it should have stuck. Mike was talking about the next section of Revelation, where the seven angels pour out bowls of God's wrath on the earth. And the main point? Don't get confused in the darkness and end up on the wrong side, because God always wins. Yeah. I should have cried. I didn't.



I wrote down a bunch of little quotes and paraphrases from it. "Whatever you are facing, if God put you in the fight, victory is yours." "Joshua used the weapon of worship." -Which still strikes me because a few times lately I've been led to reading about Joshua. "If you're on His team, you win. Game over. Don't even bother."



Included in the passage is a description of evil spirits appearing as magic frogs that come and deceive rulers and kings and everyone. And right after this is a warning from Jesus. "Don't take your [white robes] off. Remember what I told you." Mike talked about how people always give in. They always say everyone else must be right, and they just line up behind the frogs, on the wrong team, going against the one who had won before the battle ever begins.



And inside I knew. I knew it was speaking to where I was. All the doubt, in the face of what I could not deny. That all of it was just distracting me from the truth. But before we even left . . . it just faded. It made no lasting impression, it was all just academic.



And the week just kind of droned on.



At some point I realized I wasn't really alive. Technically I was, but I wasn't living. I was just wasting. I wasn't spending time with God. I wasn't doing anything or working for anything or living for anything. I wasn't spending time with God. On Thursday I had one short entry in my prayer journal.



On Friday I couldn't take it anymore. That night I knew what I had to do, what I should have done long ago, what I should have done Monday. I worshiped. Starting in my prayer journal:



"I don't want to meet with You right now. But I need to, I have to, I am dead inside.
I am coming to worship You, and drink You in.
Come fill me up.
Hear my cries and deliver me."

I put on music and just sang and read and wrote. And it took a long time. But it worked. Eventually I was feeling again, even if just a little. I tried to listen for something, in case God had a specific direction for me, but I heard nothing. I was so far out I really just needed Him.

While letting God guide me to something to read, I came upon the story of Joseph, and read it from beginning to end.

So I was finally a little better, but I still wasn't where I wanted. (I'm still not quite. I still feel a little closed off). After everything . . . I don't know why but I asked, "God am I still supposed to fight?"

I opened my Bible to Deuteronomy 20. The chapter is titled "Going to War." And is a list of commands for preparation when the Israelites went to fight. And still, there's this little voice inside that doubts. "You shouldn't be fighting" it says. "You're reading your desires into everything" it says.

Saturday . . . I won't go in to, but some stuff happened, mostly familial, and it was just a crappy day. I poured my heart out in my pj before I went to sleep. Begging God to meet with me on Sunday, to build me up.

Church this morning was good. The worship was spirit filled and freeing. I was able to just let go and draw near to God, even though I still felt a little distant. Then Aaron got up to speak. Today he began a series on the story of Joseph.

This is dulled amazement.

He just did the first bit today, up to where Joseph is sold to the Ishmaelites. He talked about "seasoning" and how God calls us to great 'dreams' (as successes) and how people will stand in the way, but everything is just building us up for a greater reward. Its kind of crazy, but I didn't really feel awestruck by it. I just banked it. So stupid.

In the afternoon I was wasting time and decided to get on CristianityToday.com to check out their men's devotional, which I sometimes do, but haven't for a few days (about a week). The devotional was about marriage and being a good husband and God's design of compatibility. Those devotionals are never so specific, they are made to appeal to men at every stage. I refuse to read anything into it, but it is interesting.

At some point I realized I'd just shut everything off. This whole week, even today, not reacting to things. I just shut my brain off and locked my heart away. Sam called me on Saturday and wanted to talk. I didn't answer. I just spent the whole week in this little puddle of apathy and rebellion.

And still I've had thoughts about her. I can't stop them, though I often have wished I could. I found myself more than one day this week wishing I'd never met her. Realizing we were closer before we met than we are now. I sometimes wanted to call her and tell her what I really thought of her. And sometimes I wanted to call and tell her I wanted to do that, thinking maybe it would shake something loose and we could begin talking. Mostly I've just wanted to close off more, to have an opportunity to reject her. Just total crap.

I'm still leery that I'll ever speak to her again. Something about that is crazy, but I'm not sure if its not being certain I won't, or even considering that I won't look into her lovely eyes and hear her wonderful words. Something is crazy though.

Last week I asked God a few times how I was to fight, and three times He directed me to different passages concerning a messenger. One was John the Baptist preceding Jesus. The others were more independent. So I've come to like that idea, of someone else just going and convincing her of . . . . But I haven't given any though to who or how or whether I can even do anything. Can't someone just fix all this?

Oh well . . . for now I just have to hunker down, because I have to fight and I have no idea how long it will take.

Tonight college group was canceled, so I went to GodWhy for a free dinner and a just guys young adult thing. It was pretty sweet, but nothing spiritually striking. There was this really, really good looking young lady who was vying for my attention, but we didn't officially meet. Its funny though, how things change. Whereas a few weeks ago I couldn't stray if I tried, from a woman who won't speak to me, now I have new elements of the fight I have to contend with. She's the third attractive woman I've encountered this week, after meeting two earlier in the week.

And there's this part of me that wants to chase something else. Even while part of me thinks I'll just one day have to tell her I couldn't stay "that" sure things weren't over. Just for the fun, just for the company. But I guess its just new layers of the fight. If so that means its getting harder. But I am handling it better.

I went to a visitation today, I'm going to the funeral tomorrow, for a friend's brother. I realized while I was at the visitation that this will be my first funeral in a little over a year. Which is the longest I've gone without going to a funeral since my dad's when I was eight. 16 years.

The last funeral I went to . . . I've never told anyone about this. It was for a teen in South Carolina. A kid that didn't go to the church I worked at. I just met him out and about, and was trying to get him involved in the group. I was trying to get him saved, because he wasn't. And I didn't make it. And I had to lie about who I was to go because no one knew me. I just sat in the back, waiting to cry until I left.

While I was thinking about all those funerals over all those years, I realized that in a lot of ways I've had a very hard life, with lots of very difficult parts. And I started hoping that eventually, I'd just hit a nice patch. A good long stretch where my troubles were so much smaller.

At some point this week I realized I've dealt with what is probably clinical level depression. And I was going through it part of the time she and I were together. I'd like to think if she knew things would be different. But it was just to hard for her, she had to find excuses to leave. She won't listen. I'd like to say I'm at peace with that, but I'm not allowed to be. I have to make my blood boil and build hope and not care about the pain.

I realize this all sounds kind of depressing, but that's not how I feel. I'm in a good mood right now. I'm excited about getting up early tomorrow to run some errands. I'm excited about . . . whatever is coming. I'm excited about the fight. I'm excited about victory.

Its important that we remember who is going to be on the throne when the dust settles. Are you on the right side? Or have you lined up behind a dancing frog?

"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.