Seth’s World View

Twelve-thirty on Tuesday night and where to start? Am I at peace right now? I think so, though not relaxed. There’s just been so much swirling through my head lately, or maybe it’s me that’s been swirling. I’ve been too busy lately, pouring myself into work and related activity, yet not so much into people. I was on the edge of burnout this past weekend, yet didn’t even realize it, more exhaustion, tired of trying to meet my own expectations and the perceived expectations of others. Life feels like a game, and I sometimes wonder if I’m the only one who doesn’t know how, or is unwilling to play. I actually can deal with the game on a high level, when it’s abstract, but when it comes down to the human heart, it tears me apart. I can’t live up to myself and my own ideals. It’s not as if my parents discouraged me pursuing dreams, quite the opposite, but there were things I didn’t feel I could share growing up, and it took me partway through college before I was known, truly known. Even then, my maturity was still lacking, discipline and focus lacking, emotional maturity lacking, despite the many things I got to accomplish and be involved in. I thought I knew what course in life I wanted, even applied for a college ministry I thought I wanted. Part of my heart did, but I decided I was too self-centered. I never had it together in college, not in the years in Colorado, not in New Zealand, never really, though their were periods of togetherness. Always was insecure, often wondered if I was accepted. Unfortunately, I still slip into this mindset. I wonder as I walk the floor on Church Sundays what I should do, if I have any love in my heart, does everyone else have it together, am I good enough? Does everyone have it together? No, but it seems that way. I realize that at a previous church, I had some people who knew me, knew my flaws, and accepted me. I have some friends who know much about me. Granted, there are few that get me, but at least I do have a few friends I have shared most of myself with. None of them are at my church though, and I can’t say I know anyone else that way either. I think people are capable of it, and that it can be, but I don’t see if facilitated, or at least I don’t know how to go about it. I can always open myself up, but instead I’ve been more withdrawn, trying to get it together, trying to find a measure of faith, trying to be holy, and failing, not experiencing grace, not connecting. Sunday afternoon was distressing time in my mind. I haven’t been as committed to church services the past couple months, not enough energy or desire to play the social game, watching most people walk by as I contemplate whether I love the people around me. Where is my place? No answer. A year later, I have friends, but I’m not connected. I often go it alone, and only partly by choice. I don’t expect others to follow, most often they don’t. Few seem to be interested in what stirs my heart. Yet the coffee house does, and some of the people there are kindred, and that I’m immeasurably thankful for. It’s been a long time coming. Even then sometimes, I doubt myself, and wonder if others doubt me, and wonder if others doubt me and have reason to, and if they doubt me or question me, do they love me enough to say something. Sometimes I wonder if I project nonverbals to create self-fulfilling prophecies. More often, I believe a lie. I sometimes fight for the truth, and desire God, and a few times, I even pray a heartfelt prayer. Other times, like now, I just have a hard time believing. I believe God is. Christianity I’m not always sure about. Sometimes I think some of the Christian sub-culture is just bunk…and I’m probably right. Grace isn’t to be found in having it together, but in being broken. But if I am broken alone, what am I? Part of my frustration is that I don’t have longterm victory, that I don’t reach my potential, that I don’t love enough. I’ve been told by a few people I’m too hard on myself. I know. Reality can be such a relative term though. I walk 32 years through life, and while I have grown quite a bit on the journey, I still fail, still feel pain, still find way to dull the pain. I thought I knew where I was heading in life during and after college, wondered if someone would walk that life with me. Liked a number of girls during that time, was hurt by a few, liked by a few, didn’t really lay it on the line though. Messiah College, a lovely Christian subculture. After a very unsettled post college year, arrived in Colorado and spent another 4 years in a Christian subculture. It was good in many ways, got to truly know some people, and they me, but got nowhere with girls. Pursued very few, got nowhere. Now I go to church and primarily see two kinds of girls, college students and married. After having a number of friends fade away after college who I thought would be life long friends, and having others just move on, and then getting this far without dating, it’s just been really hard to care at times, and when I don’t care, I don’t bother, and faith in God is hard to come by. I’ve talked in journal entries about the value of risking my life, and I believe it’s the better path, but withdrawing and shrinking away is the more natural. I feel so far outside the proper mold, and sometimes hate my INFP personality (based on Myers-Briggs). It defines me so well as the 1% minority personality, the one rarely understood. I could repeat all the right things to do, the right things to believe, but it wouldn’t come from my heart. Traveling to New Zealand, alone, was easy. Loving is hard. Sharing my heart with people is hard when it could be trampled upon, and with a girl, seemingly impossible. I managed to find a measure of hope to hold onto the past few months, hope that life is worth living. My job has been really good for my confidence, but interpersonally, it’s shot. There have been a few times that past year where I have found security in truth and in God, to believe what’s true about myself, to enjoy freedom without anxiety, sometimes for weeks, but that underlying (key word: lying) questioning myself eventually returns. I want to be loving, want to be holy, sometimes really want it, but other times it just seems to hard. Christianity as a set of rules and principles has no life for me, don’t want it. Grace and forgiveness, now that’s refreshing. Do I feel it now? No, but feelings are problematic. Am I strong or weak? Will I ever arrive? Will love spring forth from my heart and leave ‘ought to’ in the dust? Tears aren’t sure if they want to fall, so they just linger in my eyes. Have I said enough? Likely too much, but I have no desire to pretend. I’ll pretend when I’m at work, but otherwise, love me or don’t. I don’t want people to appreciate what I do. I want people to appreciate me, to love and accept me, to be able to see all that is inside and look me in the eyes with a smile. I don’t know what choices I’m going to make tomorrow, and I don’t know what God would have of me, other than what it clearly spoken: love God and people. Yet my heart alone has not that kind of love. So here I am, and the border ready to withdraw, knowing I can’t since it never helps, yet unsure what I stand on, or what shoulders I stand upon. I’m frustrated and am just ready for renewal, connection, grace. So ends the stream of conscious for the evening, with another likely to follow another day. Now the tears fall…