It’s been a really long time since I’ve written. As I attempt to convey my thoughts about the last two months, I have that uneasy, overwhelming feeling you get when you run into someone from high school. You know you should say something. But how do you catch someone up after so much time has passed?
It’s not that I haven’t wanted to write. I’ve actually written several drafts of a post, but get frustrated because after two hours of trying to organize my thoughts I realize I don’t have a point. Or maybe I can’t find the point. This has turned out to be an unfortunate and greatly unappreciated byproduct of being employed. I don’t have 40 hours a week to write. When a job takes up most of my waking hours, it takes up not only time, but mental energy. By the time I get out of work, hit the gym, get dinner, take care of housework (more on that), It’s so late I can’t seem to put anything interesting down. So how do I catch you up after so much time has passed? There have just been too many thoughts and too much context for those thoughts to get them all down in any meaningful manner. But for the sake of heading off any more “why haven’t you written?”s, I will try.
I have a house now. I have no doubt it was a gift from God. The story of how I came about it is quite extraordinary. The last two years of my life have been chaotic. I’ve had to trust my life was still very much under the control of a loving God, despite not being able to see or feel that reality. More often than not, it was a matter of accepting His love despite my lack of trust. But during the events that transpired to allow me to buy my house, God pulled back the veil and allowed me to see His hands orchestrating my life. That was a sweet gift. It was like being given another deep breath before submerging again below the dark waterline.
No one told me how lonely it would be to buy/own/maintain a house on my own. I have to carry the decisions, the financial burden, and the fixing all by myself. It’s overwhelming to figure out how the organize bills, and when to get the chimney looked at, and how to get the grass cut when I don’t have a mower. And the time and energy, and let’s be honest, tears I’ve wasted on shades of blue paint is embarrassing. I probably get asked once a day if I am enjoying my house. I enjoy the screened in porch during thunderstorms. And I love the sound of rain on the metal awnings over the windows. I really enjoy Sunday evening when all of the week’s preparations are over and I make tea and read. But other than that, it’s a house. It’s not a person. It’s a provision for which I am very grateful, but it doesn’t compel my heart.
I think I have the same sentiments for my job. I really enjoy the people I work with. I have a great time talking with people all over the country. And a paycheck, not to mention having something to do with my time, is pretty nice. But for the life of me, I can’t muster up excitement over video conferencing equipment.
I’m grateful for my house and my job. I know they were given to by God, specifically for me at this time in my life. For this time in my life. During a conversation about home decor, I was advised to relax about decorating because it’s not like I will be there forever. Then it dawned on me. I’ve spent my entire adult life biding my time for the next step. I think about the next living situation or getting a job or, dare I say, a relationship. I live with the mentality of a perpetually transient person. And I don’t think it’s fair to say that I am never happy because I am always waiting for the next thing. In fact, it’s been in the midst of my greatest times of instability and uncertainty that I felt the most content. But now I have a mortgage (gulp) and a job in corporate America (double gulp) and I can’t figure out if the quietness in my heart is contentment or resigned sadness. Most of my time and energy are sucked dry by responsibilities, not by things that make my heart feel alive.
If I was being really honest I would admit that I feel like something has broken inside my heart. Let me help you understand. Last week, I sat on my porch watching a thunderstorm declare the power of the Almighty. I sat there without even a desire to go stand under the rain that was falling in sheets. I felt nothing. Last night, I stood stage center as a Scottish band performed mind-blowing rhythms so primal and fierce that one year ago it made my heart race. I felt nothing. It’s like a part of me has shut down. Can anyone relate to this?
It’s taken me hours to get this simple, rather boring post down. And for the life of me, I can’t think of how to make it remotely meaningful to anyone. I am fairly confident that whatever is wrong will get fixed. And I know that renewed freedom and life will come because Jesus knows what’s going on with my heart. And He knows when and how it needs to be healed. But until then, I won’t waste anyone’s time with my feeble attempts at writing. Hopefully it won’t be another two months.