. . .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.
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1 comment:
You are not alone, my friend. I know we are kind of "new" friends....but I think you are pretty awesome:)
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