Do you want to get well?

I was reading over some of my semester goals today, and a rather surprising theme emerged. I am an excuse maker. A big one.

"I want to do this, but. . ."

"I think this would be a good goal, but. . ."

Reminds me of John 5: After Jesus asks what seems to be a ridiculously obvious question to a lame man ("do you want to get well?"), the man responds with an even more surprising, "There's no one to help me." In other words, "I can't." Perhaps in the case of this man, he was demonstrating faith (ie: "I can't, Lord, but you can").

My case, however, contains no such faith demonstrations. I stop right after "I can't."

"God, I would like to stop being so controlled by people. But I can't."

"God, I would like to stop my patterns of emotional eating. But I can't."

"God, it would be nice if I trusted you more/loved people more/was more generous/didn't live under the weight of self-imposed guilt/you name it, I've been there? It really would. I would like it a lot. But I can't."

And underneath all these excuses is the more enlightening fact that "I don't want to." It's too hard, and I prefer to eat ice cream when I'm sad than to turn it down and just be sad. It's too hard to love people I don't like, and I would prefer to dislike them and find some excuse for my behavior. It's too hard to stop being controlled by people, and I would rather work my butt off this semester, risking my schoolwork and health and relationships, than tell my boss that I can't and risk making him angry with me.

My sin patterns have carved a rut in my being, and despite the fact that the grass is legitimately greener on the other side, digging myself out of the rut is too hard. I prefer to lie here in my sin, looking wistfully but helplessly at freedom, and saying, through actions if not words, "Yeah, Lord, the freedom You died to give me is nice, and all. . .but I like this better."

How would our lives be different if we really and truly wanted to be well?

The part of the show where Larry comes out to sing a silly song

. . .is not the part of the show I'm currently watching.

I'm at the part of the show that seems to be dragging on interminably, the entire symphony balanced on a single dissonant phrase that grates on the nerves like elevator music.

The part where my thoughts and feelings grope desperately at the nebulous concept of "home" even as my rational self points out that no place on this earth will satiate my cravings.

I'm at the point where I feel I've had very much fun playing grown-up, thank you very much, and now can I please sit in my mommy's lap and have her kiss my owies and tell me it will all be ok? Please?

Laps seem to be in somewhat short supply when you're a grown-up (or a pseudo grown-up. . .I'm sort of an adolescent grown up, caught as I am in the awkward stage between true college and true career).

I'm learning one can't always writhe out of uncomfortable circumstances. I'm here, and here I stay. So at this point it comes down to choice. I can choose to live life as a pinned butterfly, fighting my environment with everything in me. . .or I can thrive rooted in the dream that brought me here in the first place. My "today" may not be perfect or even enjoyable for a time, but I can choose to live in it with joy because I have a dream. On a temporal level, I have the dream of one day returning to a place I love and serving a people I love with the skills I develop here. On a permanent level, I have the hope that He who has begun some kind of work in me will be faithful to complete it, and that any present "sufferings" I experience now are not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed in us.

That's a part of the show I can appreciate.

Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice! (Cue 2nd round here).

I'm trying to practice rejoicing in the Lord. Gratitude and joy go hand in hand, I think, and I need to practice both, but for whatever reason, joy feels more proactive to me. Perhaps it's just a more vibrant concept in my mind. I kind of see gratitude as one of the patriarchs of the virtues, while joy is the young buck of the family, powered by hope, and buoyed by gratitude. Forgive that hopeless little metaphor--it's the best way I can currently express how I view joy.

Certain parts of my life have been struggles for me of late, and rejoicing in the Lord (in the hope of working toward goals I am eager to achieve, in the gratitude that comes of studying all the ways He has met my needs, and most of all, in the delight of knowing that someday I will know Him fully, even as I am fully known) has caused enabled me to tweak my perspective. It still takes some work and a little self-therapy (CBT, anyone?), but it works. And it's wonderful.

The fact that I was able to run today for the first time in months also helped. Endorphins are wonderful, no?

Saccharine Sweet

"Oh my gosh, he's such a creep! He keeps calling me up, and asking me to do stuff. . .and then I go, but try to keep it short. . .and then he keeps calling. . .I don't know what to do!"

Perhaps this is a wee bit harsh, but I wish girls would sometimes step up to the plate a little more with regard to their relationships. You don't want to spend time with him. He keeps calling. So what do you do?

A) Go out with him
B) Tell him you're busy
C) Say no.
D) Say yes, and then whine to all your friends about how this guy is following you, and you can't get him to stop, and blah blah blah.

Apparently "D" is the new pink, as oblivious guys and wussy girls tap dance around the issue at hand. When I've suggested to girls that they actually just turn the guy down (no excuses, no "maybe some other times," just a polite, "No, I don't think that's going to work,"), I'm labeled harsh, heartless. All because I would rather send a guy away slightly hurt but with his dignity intact than play him along, tear him to shreds behind his back, and ultimately dump him, hurting him worse than the first refusal would have.

Ladies, please quit committing the logical misstep of gossiping behind a guy's back and stringing him along--all in the name of "not hurting him." It's unrequited romantic feelings. Someone is going to be hurt, and that same someone will ultimately heal. The more quickly the hurt is dealt out, the more quickly the healing can commence, so keep his dignity (and your own) intact by treating him and his reputation with care.