Whew. The nightmare that was last week is over.

I think the reason I got so upset over the Moses thing was because of what happened the moment I knew he'd escaped. I should have been panicked and scared for him. But I wasn't. All through the search process, part of me was worried, a great deal concerned for his safety and so on. But the part of me that should have broken down in tears was calm and confident. I had the distinct impression that Moses would be returned safely to us sometime soon.

A day or two into the disappearance, my faith began to waver, and I became angry... not because of Moses' disappearance, or the various possible endings to the story, but because I'd had this impression about his return and it wasn't coming true. That was why I ended up mad at God. I'd had a similar feeling about the 50 dollars I lost on the Fourth of July earlier this year... the 50 dollars that, I discovered later, I had left in the canister at the bank's drive-in. They called me a couple days after the Fourth to tell me they still had it. And here I was with that same feeling still persisting and nothing coming of it. Then, of course, Moses came home... and I could almost see God smiling. See? I told you so. And I guess He's entitled to that. He did tell me so, and I didn't believe Him. Which is fine... I don't think He's mad or anything. I'm human, and humans naturally rely more on reason than on faith sometimes.

So, that's that. Moses is home, and I can move on with life. This Thanksgiving I will be particularly grateful for what I do have.

And now I can enjoy the holidays without that pervading sense of loss. Yes!! I love Christmas. I anticipate Christmas months before it ever gets here. It's such a beautiful season... Christmas lights everywhere, the excitement and generosity and beauty, infiltrating the dreary tedium that characterizes our normal existence. I'm already all about it, and I've still got a month to go. Wonderful! Bring it on! Christmas is coming!

 
Moses is home!!! He was found by a neighbor and arrived home Friday afternoon... just before the weather began to get ugly. He is tired and possibly has a kitty cold, but is otherwise unhurt. Praise God. I will share details later.

 
Now what?

Last Tuesday night, one of our family cats walked out the front door, which had accidentally been left ajar. He hasn't returned. We're getting the word out, but I personally have my doubts that he'll ever be back. Or if he does come back, it may be months before we see him again. If he doesn't get hurt in the meantime.

First I was angry at the circumstances which allowed this to happen. Then I was angry at the cat, and still am, somewhat... he left of his own volition, after all. And now I'm angry at God. Not merely because it happened. Bad stuff happens, you know? Sin and free choice and all that. I can see the big picture just fine. But you tell a grieving person that it's all for good in the end, and they have the right to slap you in the face for being insensitive. You think they don't know that?? Of course they know. That doesn't make it hurt any less.

We've been studying Boethius in my philosophy class lately. His answer to the question of why bad things happen to good people is basically that God's in control of everything, working it out for the good, so everything is good in the general sense. I'm not satisfied with that. It's one thing for God to be bringing good out of the bad that's happened; it's quite another to say that He planned for the bad to happen all along. What kind of tyrannical despot would do something like that on purpose? No... if we have free will, then there is such a thing as chance. Not in the completely random sense, but in the sense Boethius uses, indicating that chance is the interaction of unrelated events that produce an unintended result.

So. Where does this leave us? I have no problem believing that God exists, that He has to be fully good and that Jesus really did die and rise again to save mankind. All that stuff makes sense. As a result, I have no objection to serving Him. I owe Him after all, right? He died so I could have somewhere better to go when I leave this hellish nightmare. But I'm told He wants intimate love. Sorry... Tot doesn't just give that out freely. You gotta earn it. Yeah yeah... I know He died for me. But when bad things happen, nothing's different. I grieve, I pick myself up off the floor and go on. This happens whether or not I'm doing the whole intimate love thing with God. So what's the point? Life sucks either way. I've been told my hope doesn't just lie in heaven, that I can have "abundant life" here on Earth too. So where is it? I gave my all chasing it. I did everything I could to make myself love God. It's my duty, after all. So what happens if making yourself love Him doesn't work? What do you do when things don't pan out? You think everything's good and then your world falls to crap. That could happen anytime. How are we supposed to find any security in that if we know our pleasure could be taken from us at any time?

I know God's ways are mysterious, and I know that someday I'll be in heaven and away from it all. I know that if I was Job, He'd probably say the same thing to me that He did to Job. And for serving and "fearing" Him (in the biblical sense of fear), that's enough. But for intimate love? Nope. Nada. If He wants to work mysteriously, fine. I'm not gonna sit here and live through wave after wave of pain and sorrow and still go crawling back every time. That's not love. For all I know, He could be using me and I'd never know.

Please bear with me, folks. I'll probably take this all back if Moses comes home, or once I get over the grieving process. I don't mean to be blasphemous or anything. This is just what's on my heart, and if I don't express it somehow, I'm just gonna go numb and hard and forget about love because it's too painful.

 
Things do look better. I am refraining from worrying about the situation, mostly because it really isn't that bad. I'm living at home, so the only bills I have to worry about are for my car and my sponsored kid. My parents have graciously offered to help me pay those bills if that becomes necessary. Christmas may be a lil difficult this year, but I'm smart, I can find gifts that I can afford. I probably won't be able to move out as soon as I had hoped, particularly if I'm not able to find a job right away; and I need something technologically oriented so I can get my internship credits this coming semester. But if you think about it, now is the perfect time for a company to note that I am six months away from a degree, hire me, and train me into a real career job. I have decided to be optimistic and hope for that.

So! Life goes on. It's never easy for me to have my daily schedule so violently disrupted, and I'm not much for change. But, who knows. Maybe I'll end up loving whatever I do next.

In the meantime, at least I know I'll get Thanksgiving break off work for sure.

 
Well, I'll be blunt: today sucked. Got laid off. It's not my boss's fault or anything... he didn't want to have to let me go, but business has been slower than usual lately and he really had no choice. So, that's that. I'm employed til the end of the month.

Oh well. Maybe things will look better after a good night's sleep.

 
Got to see the third Matrix movie today. At first I was preparing to be disappointed by it, but was relieved to see things improve about a third of the way into the show. All in all, I'd say it's worth catching in theaters if you get the chance. The ending still has me confused. I won't go over that here though, in case any of you out there haven't seen it yet.

How odd. I'm in the mood for Linkin Park, and I want to listen to sad or heavy songs. But I'm not "bottoming out" emotionally due to my indulgence. It's like I used to tell people before the change... at that time, it was as if I was usually down and occasionally got to go up; now I'm existing above the midline, with occasional dips down. More accurately, I can feel just as deeply, but am not a slave to the resulting emotion. Most of my readers will probably not understand why this feels so strange to me. If you have ever been prisoner to any kind of addiction or otherwise uncontrollable inner hunger or pain, you will most likely be able to relate.

Another observation: pop culture numbs me. I have been wondering for some time why this is so. I notice, though (especially now) that whenever I have been exposed to it a considerable amount over a short period of time, my sixth sense diminishes and I get the same general feeling as when I stuff myself with junk food. Perhaps it is the overkill most advertising and media forms employ these days. You basically get assaulted with messages on a daily basis, both explicit and implicit. While I was walking through Walmart this afternoon, it struck me just how ad-oriented we are as a society. Everybody, and I mean everybody, is trying to sell you something in some way or other. If it's not a good or a service, it's an idea, or lifestyle, or worldview. You can just feel the pull, even if you really don't want what's being sold.

Whatever the case, I'm always left with the feeling that this is not where I belong; and I don't mean that in some super-spiritual way, either. I never have belonged to that pop culture world. It pulls me, but it does not drive me. Is this mindframe mine alone? I know very few others who operate mostly outside the sitcom-style cookie-cutter mindset we as Americans seem to generally share. It's like we get our fix from all the noise... TV, movies, friends, culture, Brad Pitt and Britney Spears and Vanna White, the latest style of house or sonic toothbrush or shoes. We're stuck in the backseat while our desires take the wheel. Yuck. Do I have to live that way to fit in? In that case, I choose exile. I would far rather be lonely and master of myself than controlled by everyone and everything else. It's one thing to enjoy life. It's quite another to be driven to enjoy life.

Not that all culture is bad; far from it. It's being controlled by culture that's bad. Perhaps many more of us are slaves to it than we are willing to admit.

 
Well. The change remains intact, and I remain mystified. Whatever happened, I am exceedingly grateful.

Oddly enough, the biggest difference doesn't concern lack of the old ache itself as much as it does my improved functionality without it. Not only is my sixth sense still operational, but it has been enhanced and has stabilized somewhat; instead of short but intense sessions of oversensitivity, I am instead experiencing a continuous and manageable level of input. It's easier to decipher, too, and doesn't wear me out the way it did before. I certainly can't complain.

The old patterns do remain, though, interestingly. The source of the problem has been removed, but old mental and emotional habits still cause me to reach for it now and then, or to start acting as though it were still there. This tells me that what was fixed had to do with whatever accumulated over the course of the past, and if I don't change some of my thinking and emotional tendencies, it will just build up again. I've spent the past couple days attempting to break those habits and to re-learn how to handle emotional and sixth-sense input properly, so that this problem doesn't occur a second time.

Whatever the case, I can still feel negative emotions just as strongly as before, which is actually a relief. If this were not true, I would suspect that I was simply numb again. Thankfully, though, they merely come and go as emotions are supposed to. No more tsunami effect. Therefore, I retain my sensitivity, but avoid the build-up.

Yes. More efficient, and much more pleasant.

 
Later...

What the crap...?!?

Okay. I'm NOT going to jump to conclusions here. But something is definitely up. At work today I was mulling over what to do about my dilemma, and glanced inward, and what the crap, the hurt wasn't there. To understand what a shock that was, you have to realize that I'd been carrying it for years. It had very much become a part of who I was. At first I thought I'd just gone numb as usual; but then I looked through my sixth sense and could still see just fine.

I don't know how to make you see how utterly flabbergasted this left me. I haven't been able to see like this without inner pain for, quite literally, years. I spent most of the rest of my work hours poking around, looking for the usual sore spots, trying to figure out whether or not it was just my imagination. It wasn't. I can still feel negative emotions, but they don't trigger the driven anger, the pool of sadness and pain. The sense of being overpowered is gone. I'm really beginning to wonder if something was chemically wrong with me, and has now been fixed. But it wasn't always wrong. Maybe sadness and pain over time naturally lead to chemical alterations in the brain. I've known for some time that it wasn't just daily emotional responses in my case.

I admit I'm still very suspicious that this is just another stage in the cycle. I usually complete an emotional cycle every two to three weeks, so if a month or so goes by and this new state of things has not changed, I guess I'll know whether or not it's real. Still... it's hard to dismiss something so drastically different than my usual experience. In some ways it feels almost like I woke up and found my life rewound several years. Except for the small detail that the sense of time going by and all the knowledge accumulated and all the events of my life remain with me in memory.

I'm afraid to label this as any kind of healing. I don't want to talk myself into thinking I've received some kind of favor from God, if indeed it proves not to be so. It's way too serious a business to treat lightly. I have to know the truth.

 
Well, I'm alive, I guess.

I spent most of the morning thinking about my past, what went right, what went wrong, why I'm the mess that I am today, though on the outside it looks as though things are going fine. I'm beginning to understand that there is no one else out there who relates to where I'm at. Not to say they're all behind me or anything. But, I'm on this road by myself. Hopefully that will change someday in the future, but for now, I have no choice but to be on my own. I know it isn't healthy. I'd change things if I could. But I can't.

Not only that, but my heart is a prisoner of the past. The things that are truly me are still tied to memories, both good and bad, and I can't yet separate them from who I've been. While growing up, I went through so much rejection from others that discovering who I am is not the pleasant experience it's supposed to be. With nearly every aspect of that process, I run into a mental snag that causes me to feel shame or inferiority because I am whatever I've discovered. I'm a loner... LOSER. I'm quiet... INFERIOR. I prefer reading to partying... UNCOOL. My musical tastes don't always match up with those of my generation... OUTSIDER. I don't socialize the same way as everyone else... MORON. I heard and felt that response so many times that it's as natural to me as my own inner voice. I can't tell the difference anymore.

So here's the deal. Last night I funneled my hurt and frustration into a simple plea for healing, and laid it before God. I asked for a vision, a knowing, a sign, whatever it would take to give me some peace and direction. Then I went to sleep. I woke up this morning without having received any sign I could point out. So I am left wondering what to think. God says He loves me... it's written all over the Bible. He said He'd never leave me, and that He would take care of me. Right? Right. Well, I finally admitted to myself that I can't fix this issue until I know beyond all doubt that I'm doing the right thing. My heart has to be fixed. If that's a process, ok, I can work with that. But I will not deceive myself any longer. Nothing else out there is going to heal it. I can't. I've tried, over and over and over. I can't ignore it anymore either. So I have nowhere to go but forward, and I can't stand still.

One thing I cannot deny: I'm still here, I'm still alive (though barely) and my heart, though ripped to shreds, is still in existence. Is that all I can expect from God? Healing is not being withheld from me for lack of sincerity. I've never been more sincere in my life. What is it then? Is the enemy still in the way? Am I somehow not ready? Maybe so. I'm willing to admit that. But at least can't we get the wheel rolling here?

Maybe it is rolling already. I don't want to demand beyond my knowledge. I know that I can't see everything... as time goes on, I discover more and more that I know less and less than I thought. I'm just looking for enough to go on... and I'm still going, so I guess I've got that. Where to next? I don't like this bend-in-the-road business. I need to know that I'm not just floating aimlessly along with no purpose. If all I have discovered over the course of my lifetime to be true is true, I need to know. NOW. Otherwise I'm going to lose this war. And I can't afford that. I know what awaits me if I do, and I'm not talking about eternity. I'm talking about hell while I'm here on earth... the hell of being content with empty longing and mediocre pleasures that just lead to more longing in the end. It's not enough anymore. I must have what my heart desires, or I will not be able to go on.

 
Tonight I took my first real steps into a larger world. I chose a trance track from my mp3 collection and set about re-creating it through Cakewalk. It's hard, but SO MUCH FUN!! I spent three hours on it tonight and intend to pick up where I left off tomorrow.

Current heart condition: wide open, and suffering significantly as a result. I'd forgotten what an exhausting burden it is to deal with my heart. It's still too broken down to handle much of anything without pain. I need healing, and I need it now. This had better work or I'm in trouble. Too much emotion today... I've got that nasty sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one I usually get after my sixth sense overloads and short-circuits. Ugh. I am NOT going to live like this. No one should have to live like this. There is so much pain down there, it frightens me, I don't want to face it. If God doesn't help me through this, I'm eventually going to self-destruct. There is no freakin' way I can take it. HELP...

 
So far so good. I'm still on my Switchfoot kick. The weather is beautiful today, Cakewalk is operational now, and I have Pringles to take with me to work. Lots of reasons to be happy.

The horrible thing about Mondays is the fact that I have to spend the entire day fulfilling obligations, thanks to my night class. Being too busy for free time does have its advantages, though. At least I get to be focused and don't have time to worry about all the less pressing odds and ends I'm supposed to be taking care of... like preparing my graduation audit or cleaning my room. If I get home early enough tonight, I'll consider a bit of free time well earned and will likely spend it on playing with Cakewalk. We had a get-acquainted session last night. The real work is soon to begin... self-training first, of course. But it's all fun.

Off to work I go. Yet another afternoon devoted to removing the evil that is the staple from the realm of business-related activity. Must defeat the tyrannical empire one staple at a time.

 
I am on the threshold of the painful stage. The longing has peaked and left me with the usual mixed bag of joy and despair. Now if I can just hang on through this and not let go of what I've seen... yeah, that's the trick. Normally the next step involves plunging deep into the loss and desolation side, then doing whatever it takes to numb the sense altogether so that I don't feel anything from that dimension. There has to be a way to break the pattern. I did it once previously, for a time. Can't remember how I managed it though. My brain has a tendency to block memories of emotion-intensive moments, a coping mechanism it developed sometime over the past few years. I need to break it of that too.

According to Eldredge, my heart is all tangled up in this. I'm actually starting to believe him, if only for the fact that the evidence points in that direction. One advantage I have now is the knowledge that it's involved. Perhaps that will support me through the next emotional barrage. I've also got to remember to keep my focus narrow enough for me to handle. My heart gets so excited at tasting possible freedom that it goes nuts and throws open the doors of my perceptions to whatever it pleases. As a result, I can't take the sudden onslaught of information and end up slamming the doors shut to everything for the sake of mere survival. Must find middle ground, I guess.

If any of my readers out there believe in prayer, I could use a bit of that. A bit? Forget that... I need all the cover I can get. This point in time is crucial. I'm at a crossroads, and the path I know I need to take is naturally the one less traveled by... it looks a lot scarier, more dangerous. I need the strength and endurance and wisdom to choose it and stay on it. Help me out, if you can.

 
Later...

This is crazy. Can it be true? On impulse, today I picked up the John Eldredge book I'd backed off from a few weeks ago; and once again I am left feeling rather floored. The picture of reality that he paints seems so different from the dreary existence I tolerate each day. And yet, something in my heart resonates every time a sentence strikes home. Listen, it says, you know this is what I've been trying to tell you all along. Can it be true?

Whatever the case, I know that I know that I KNOW there is more than this to life... more than this empty, mediocre banality that I'm supposed to consider an acceptable existence. If all my wanderings and nameless certainties and raging, insatiable desires are the work of a meaningless nonentity looking for meaning, I might as well sit down and take my life, right here and now. Answering this Question is not an option. If there is no answer, there is no point in going on. None whatsoever. I'm dead serious about this. No joke. (Don't panic, I'm not suicidal because I haven't given up.)

That's right... I haven't given up. And I won't. I've seen enough evidence to tell me two things: firstly, that the entire world is looking for the same Answer that I'm chasing; and secondly, that the Answer does exist. I don't know much else about it yet, but it's there. I know it as truly as I know that I'm sitting in front of a computer typing on November 8th, 2003. I might even know it more truly than that.

And I'm not going to stop until I find it and make it mine.

 
Is a Pandora's box an inevitable capitulation to temptation? Perhaps. My heart has become a Pandora's box, and I can no longer resist the desire to see what's been going on in there since I lost track of it. Thanks to help from the longing, I'm making a little progress. The changes thus far have been the oddest things... rather funny, really.

For one thing, I've been more talkative. A whole LOT more. Can't imagine why brain activity would be so connected to the heart, but, ok. My motivation for life in general is returning, too. Which is even more odd. (More odd? Odder? Whatever!) And to top it all off, my creativity level has skyrocketed. Haven't done much with it yet, but I lack only the ambition to spend a little money and effort in the hopes of funneling it into something constructive. Might finally get the keyboard set up today. If I have time.

Off I go to tackle the day's responsibilities. Have a great one... and remember, your life isn't complete until you've spent two hours bouncing rubber bands off the ceiling in an attempt to land them in a glass on the floor. Yep. Ciao.

 
The longing is back. It hit two days ago and has been growing steadily since. I've been feeding it a bit, I admit; there is no point in trying to stand in its way. I'd just work myself into a frenzy in the attempt, to no avail in the end.

It has struck me again lately how far from myself I still am. So much so, in fact, that I'm not even sure what I like and don't like now. Many of my interests are so connected to memories and past events and people that I'm not certain how many of them are actually mine. So, over the course of the past few days, I've been trying to "start fresh" in a way, to figure out what honestly gets me going.

The first thing I discovered that I truly like is Switchfoot. This is nothing new of course; but it was comforting to realize that I love their music, regardless of any other influence. I also truly enjoy Star Wars. Even if I'd never met anyone who liked it, even if I hadn't had any other influence to make me like Star Wars, I like it. I also like cats. They're really quite fascinating creatures. I highly enjoy philosophical discussions (provided they don't degenerate into debate) and I love to lose myself in a good book. C.S. Lewis is AWESOME. I wish that he were still alive, and that I knew him so I could ask him questions.

I have a right to my dislikes too. I really don't like beets. I don't think I will ever like beets. I can't stand The Simpsons or South Park or Rugrats. I really, REALLY can't stand Eminem. Or most of today's popular music, for that matter. Ugh. Even five years ago the music was so much better.

Normally I wouldn't show my hand like this. Knowing things about you gives people a window into who you are, in a way that allows them to cause you a great deal of pain if they so choose. I usually prefer to sit back and watch people, offering my input now and then to facilitate some further discussion or action, but never quite letting them see my entire viewpoint... just smiling and listening, like my philosophy teacher does. It drives the class nuts, but it does protect him from being challenged by any of us, I suppose. Not to imply he's a coward or anything. There is a lot of wisdom in holding your tongue. Which is my entire point. But now and then, you gotta brace yourself and take a position on a few things, if only to differentiate yourself from every other soul (and its corresponding worldview) that's out there.

Besides, it's sometimes fun to see people express themselves. On the way home from school today, I followed a license plate that said simply "LANDO" on it. I quite enjoyed that. Sometimes it's the little things that make your day.

 
I've decided that I love this state. North Dakota must baffle meteorologists. I know somebody who's dating one; I should ask her to ask him how he feels about it.

Why do I love my state? I'm not entirely sure. Just about everyone my age is itching to turn tail to its winds and blow outta here as fast as possible. Maybe that reason alone is why I'm becoming more and more determined to stay. I love the fact that we can get one or two weeks of fall and plunge straight into winter, no holds barred. I love the fact that I can't predict anything about this place. I love the fact that watching the weather around here is like looking in the mirror. These days, what's going on inside me is just as impulsive, capricious, and volatile as what's going on outside.

The past several days have been quite busy; but somewhere in the midst of all that harried activity, I learned two more things about myself... or rather, I expanded on two concepts I already knew. It's odd how much time and effort it takes to know oneself.

The first thing I learned is that I am different. Don't get me wrong, I've known that all my life. But I'm discovering that I am vastly different from anyone I know... beyond even my own expectations. It almost frightens me to know that I am such a peculiar mix of perceptions, perspectives, passions and pursuits. (Check out that alliteration!! Many thanks to Thesaurus.com.) What is it about me that even I don't get? I'd really like to know, because not knowing has been causing me endless trouble.

The second thing I found out is that I am fickle. My likes, dislikes, future plans, and present perspectives rely a great deal on where in the emotional cycle I find myself at any given time. Hopefully this condition is only temporary, and will fade as I grow in age and experience. It's almost as though I can't decide who I want to be, and am still trying to be whoever I feel like being at the time. And yet, beneath all the roleplaying is a silent observer that remains through the changes. Whoever she is, she must know who I am. Perhaps she is who I am. I'm going to do everything I can to find out what she knows.