My imagination is waking up. I am quite aware of how dangerous it is for me to attempt to rouse it. Other things have been sharing its slumber, things I would have preferred to let lie if I could be happy without them. However, I am out of other options.

So, here goes. I wanted an adventure; I've got one now. I'll have no choice but to follow where my longings lead. Scary proposition. I'm preparing to jump into the fire when I'm already in danger from its heat. Foolish? Perhaps. But it's better than sitting out here in the cold, waiting for nothing to happen. I was born to play with fire.

At least, that's my hypothesis. Time to find out if it's true.

 
Now what?

My apologies for the brief lapse. I needed some thinking time. That has come to an end, however... yes, thinking is no longer my task. Doing is the mission now. But doing what? Where? Why?

I need a new adventure. Life is dry and stale to the taste, primarily because I have no cause to chase, other than what is expected of me. I feel suspended between times, no longer belonging to my old life but unsure of what is ahead. It is clear that I won't find the answers I need by just sitting here. But which direction should I take?

If it weren't so late, I would go for a drive, to temporarily satisfy my wanderlust. I know I know, 9:15 isn't that late. But I'm getting up at 6:30 tomorrow morning. If I'm going to find an adventure, I need to be in full control of all my faculties. That will only be the case if I get a good night's sleep.

Screw that. I'm not going to sleep well if I'm restless. Time to go for a drive anyway.

 
Thank God... the emotional storm is over. Last night was NOT fun. How many times do I have to go through this? Is something wrong with me? I'm feeling disconnected and unsettled again, like I'm not quite sure who I am or what's expected of me. But at least that horrible guilt is gone again. I can't keep on doing this. Every time my emotions switch to something else, my entire focus changes in subtle ways, and I feel like a different person. (No I am NOT schizophrenic.) One of these days I'm going to end up sabotaging my life by making decisions in one phase that I know I'll regret later in another. There has to be some way to steady things down. Exposure to pop culture and the rest of the world is unavoidable if I want to have a family someday. Can't find a mate by hiding away from society. So what do I do? Allowing me to be me isn't a problem anymore, except for this one issue of securing a lifetime companion. I don't want to end up alone. And yet... the way things are going, it seems like the more I try to just be myself, the faster my chances of being compatible with someone drop to lower levels.

Maybe I'm trying too hard. Maybe I should just live and see what happens. If so, how do I counteract that awful trapped feeling I get sometimes? "You're living a nonlife in a backwater state, you have no social life and no prospects for one, you're not happy in your job, you're not accomplishing anything, you're bored, you're useless." Yeah yeah yeah. Not everyone has to change the world. I don't want to leave ND; I've tried before, and I can't quite manage to feel at home anywhere else. So, if I'm going to stay, I need to work with what I've got. Somehow.

 
Left turn signals are a necessary evil. I can't count the number of times that missing one or more of them has made me late for something. Ugh.

Traffic really wasn't that bad today. It just seemed bad because I was in a hurry, and already irritable. Things didn't go as planned yesterday and now I'm worse off than I was before. Am I complaining? Yes. Do I care? No. Don't give me that critical look. You do your own share of complaining, I'll wager. Uh oh! Can't wager! Gambling's wrong! According to whom? Can you back that up with Scripture? Be careful, don't misuse Scripture, that's wrong too. And watch your idle words. You might suffer if you don't think about everything you say. But don't say too much anyway. Talking is a bad idea. It might get you into trouble too... the tongue is a fire, or whatever. Fire? Don't talk about fire! Pyros are Satan worshippers!

It just gets more and more ridiculous. And somewhere in the confusion, everybody's lost sight of the real dangers. I went into a chatroom yesterday looking for Christian guidance on the subject of the sex drive. Answers ranged from "give it to God" to "you get desensitized after awhile" to "you're human, cut yourself some slack." Give it to God? What kind of a cop-out answer is that? It wouldn't be a cop-out if someone could actually tell you HOW to give it to God. Nobody seems to know though. Desensitization is a BAD thing, I can tell you that much already. I'm not going to live life in a numb state. No thank you. That isn't living. And as for being human... that doesn't seem to jive with the Christian teaching I've heard on the matter since I was too young to understand what sex was all about. Even dwelling on it in your thoughts is wrong, apparently. So how is a person supposed to burn off all that energy? And don't say exercise. Consider people who get the most exercise--military personnel--and then consider their reputation for voracious sexual appetites. No, I don't think exercise is the answer. This is a matter of the mind and heart as much as it is of the body. Taking care of only one factor isn't going to solve the problem.

The truth of it is, the Church hasn't figured out the answer to this problem either. All one has to do is take a peek at the stats to see that. The world's issues--divorce, sexual misconduct, abortion, depression, suicide, the list goes on and on--are often the same as or even higher in the Church than in the rest of the world. Does that not alarm Christianity? We are in a time of the most technologically advanced communication capabilities the world has ever seen! The Church has an opportunity to teach like no other in history. There is no shortage of ways to address tough issues. But on certain topics, Christians remain mysteriously silent... or find workarounds or temporary solutions. Sorry folks, that just isn't good enough for me. If God says there's a way out of temptation, then there's a way out. Otherwise I wouldn't have to carry the guilt for not finding it.

That leaves the whole self-control option yet to be addressed. Frankly, I'm out of self control. When you live in a culture that tinges every aspect of its manifestations with sexual connotation, visual or verbal or whatever, there isn't much chance of removing yourself from the stimulus. The sex drive builds when aroused; you can't just try to strike a balance with it. Eventually it's only a matter of time until you either gratify it in some way or go crazy trying not to be human. It's no wonder the Bible stresses avoiding that arousal in the first place. Once you're faced with it, you're already in the danger zone.

So what now? Back to isolation I go. It's the only way I know to fight those instincts. But I know that solution won't last long. I'm going to watch a movie with friends on Wednesday, and the Fourth of July holiday is coming up soon. One way or another I'll end up back at square one. I hope God understands... He has to understand, because there is literally no other way for me to go.

 
Whew... I'm tired. Not really tired physically, though my muscles are still stiff and sore from all the activity (golf and cleaning) this past weekend. Doesn't feel much like a weekend break though when you're busy doing stuff the whole time. I'm worn out from the busyness I suppose. Don't get me wrong, it was fun; but now I need a couple days of George Winston, A-Train, and crochet. Funny how this balance thing works. I'm so glad I understand it now, at least well enough to utilize it.

Twas a fun weekend though. I watched "50 First Dates" with my sis on Thursday night. Good movie. We got fast food and watched "Big Fish" on Friday night. Another good movie. On Saturday I got up at 6:30 in the morning to meet my dad at 7:30 for golf. It always takes me a few holes to get over my pride; then after that, it's fun. The weather was absolutely gorgeous for golfing, despite the wind which kicked up a bit on the 7th hole. I didn't keep score, so don't ask. Heh heh.

Saturday afternoon I spent deep-cleaning my old living areas at my parents' house. We had a steak dinner that night and watched "Spiderman." Sunday involved church, a Father's Day dinner at TGI Friday's, and a Father's Day dessert at my grandparents' house. I was too stiff and sore to do much of anything, so after that I returned to my apartment and went straight to bed. A two-hour nap and some stretches did a great deal to loosen up my muscles. After a light supper I went grocery shopping, did some basic household maintenance (took garbage out, washed dishes), and made my first loaf of banana bread in my new place. It turned out quite well, if I do say so myself.

So that was my weekend. Busy and fun, but not too restful. Tonight after work I'm going to go straight home, eat a light and healthy supper, and force myself to avoid the tv remote for the entire night. I need some peace and quiet to recuperate from all the stimulation. Whether this is due to my nature as an HSP, or whether I'm merely trying to recover from all the stress I've faced in the last few years, I don't know. But I know what I need, and I'm learning to take care of myself. That's a good thing.

 
Normally I wouldn't blog twice in one day. But I must record my feelings tonight.

Something new is swirling into my stew of experience. Tonight my sister and I watched a movie, then cruised around Bismarck in my sister's car (stopping at Dairy Queen for a treat of course). She was playing a variety of musical choices. One song in particular, by somebody-or-other Oakenfield (I think) was playing, and I was looking out the window watching kids interact on the sidewalk, and a motorcycler go by in the other lane, and all this other stuff happening; and an odd feeling swept over me, and the music and the humanity around me and the stoplights and the trees and the sunset all swirled together into a poignant longing of some sort, the feeling you get when you see a place that brings back memories, or when you're out cruising on a perfect summer's evening, the feeling that you know you're alive and you're home. I don't know how else to explain it. I felt like I must be on drugs, but there was no numbness; or that I was perfectly content, yet the entire feeling hinged on the hope for something more. It was a fascinating encounter with something I don't understand, yet somehow know as intimately as I know myself.

The strangest part of it all is, I don't see this experience as a threat to my peace. Last week, even yesterday, I was happy only in connection with gentle experiences, like classical music. But tonight I was listening to hard rock and felt just as much alive. It is as if the previous me and the more recent me are both valid, and each displaying themselves in the person I am now; and tonight they learned to display themselves at the same time. I have no way of expressing how significant an event that is for me. Wow.

I'm going to bed. Golf in the morning... and besides, I don't want to overanalyze this feeling. That would defeat its whole purpose and rob it of its value. Perhaps I'll be better able to explain tomorrow.

 
MOODY. Ugh. There is only one reason I am ever forced to wish I was male; and it comes around once a month. Odd thing is, the event itself is really not that bad... I typically only get cramps the first day. It's the week beforehand that can be such trouble.

I suppose I shouldn't be complaining. PMS has never been all that bad for me physically; I rarely deal with those kinds of symptoms. A bit of a backache, or occasional headache perhaps. However, my body has decided it needs to make up for that by tipping the scales on the emotional side of things. I can be any number of intense emotions, from hyper to ahem male-aware to depressed to irritable, all of this occurring capriciously over the course of a few days to a week. Most of the time it's only two or three days. I'm quite sure my family and friends are grateful for that. The funny thing is, I can observe the craziness from some remote observation point inside myself and wonder "why the heck am I feeling like this?" Luckily, with some practice I'm able to control the outward expression of moody tendencies, to some extent. After a few days of such ridiculous ups and downs, though, I end up actually excited to greet my womanliness for the month.

It had better wait another day though. I have no intention of traipsing around a golf course tomorrow morning while fighting first-day cramps. And no amount of Midol, wonderful drug though it is, could possibly transform me into a willing participant in that case.

 
Whew. I think I can honestly say that I'm back in touch with myself and with reality... even with God. It's been a long hard road. Definitely worth it though.

I'm not sure I can say what changed. That odd separation is back up between me and others, though it's not entirely a bad thing. The difference now is, I can understand them and sympathize with their thoughts and emotions, though they usually can't understand mine. But I'm ok with that. I think the biggest difference is simply that I don't share their interests. I'm done pretending like I fit in. I just don't. At this point, I'd rather not. That awful conflict between who I am and who I wanted to be has finally faded away. There's always room for growth, of course; but the hope for change is enough. I don't despise myself like I did for so long. What a relief that is.

Don't get me wrong... people are a big part of my life. I care more about my family and closest friends than I ever have before. Part of the lesson I had to learn was that I am human, and not all that different in wants, needs, and behavior than the rest of the world. That put me on the same level as everyone else, and taught me how to view others with much greater compassion than I used to. Imagine if I were a bear or something, studying a family of cats; as a member of the animal kingdom, I do care what happens to them, though in a vague sort of way. But then, magically, I'm transformed into a cat. Suddenly the issues that matter most to cats have new applications to me, and I understand the deeper connection between myself and the cat family. That's kind of what it was like to discover my own humanity.

Then after that... I discovered God's divinity. As I explained previously, I'd been taught for the past several years to regard God as something like a best friend, or even as a lover. There is some value to that view of Him. But when it is used alone, God's divinity gets downplayed, too much in my opinion. A friend once told me he knew two things about God... that He exists, and that he is not Him. I didn't understand then how profound that statement was. It shows the proper relationship between God and man. God has the right to be God, and do things He doesn't explain, and just because I don't understand something doesn't mean there isn't a good and just reason for it to be the way it is. There seems at first to be a huge element of trust there. And in some ways I suppose it does require trust, in the form of faith. But if it's true that God exists and He is good, and all-powerful and all-knowing, then clearly I don't have the understanding to comprehend all of His activities. Otherwise there would be no need to question. That said, I don't think questions are wrong at all. Children ask questions all the time. We just have to be willing to accept His answers, or even go on without the answers if need be. They will come if and when we really do need them.

It's the mindset of a child, really. I've been enormously happier since I started approaching life like one again. It astounds me every time I realize that I understood God and life better as a kid than I have for at least the past ten years. Remarkable.

 
Hanging onto peace is a challenge. But I am still determined to face it head-on, and win.

Yesterday was tough. The most knowledgeable coworker on our help desk team at work is out for the week. As a result, the rest of us are scrambling just to stay on top of things, which was difficult even before she went on vacation because we are short staffed lately. So we made up our minds to work through as many call tickets as possible; and we must have closed at least 50 or 60, yesterday alone. It was a busy and stressful day, and originally my boss planned to have us work a few hours overtime last night. Luckily, something wasn't working server-side, so we nixed that idea.

So yeah... I "had" to watch Star Wars Episode II last night, just to relax enough to enjoy doing anything else. Unfortunately, for some reason the movie made me restless. I don't have any space games on my home PC right now, so I couldn't go burn the energy that way. Finally I just had to go sleep it off. Quite frustrating. I will NOT be dissuaded from my goal, no matter how much youthful restlessness I must suffer. Did you ever notice that the majority of older people enjoy peace and quiet more than running around making noise? I used to think that was a generational thing, or that people got old in their minds and souls the way they got old in their bodies. But I don't think so now. There is a reason "older" and "wiser" are often found together in description. Someone who has lived two or three times my years has had that much longer to learn what's important in life. It would be immature of me to dismiss the old-fashioned or traditional merely because it is old-fashioned or traditional.

Am I sacrificing my youth in order to find peace? Perhaps. But I don't think so. The most fascinating people are those who seem at once both young and old. That is the balance I'm shooting for. As a kid I understood this better than I do now. There's nothing wrong with playfulness or spirit. But if I'm depending on them for my identity, I'll end up feeling empty and purposeless. I know this from experience already.

So... how do I become like a child again, and grow more mature at the same time? I'm still reaching for the simple things in life and trying to ignore or avoid "worldly" things. That doesn't mean I'm some kind of prude. I'm doing this for survival. Popular culture is designed to overstimulate, from advertising to reporting to entertainment. There are few boundaries left; sex is nearly as openly advertised as breakfast cereal or feminine products. I have to get away from all the demands on my mind and emotions, so I can see clearly. When I've re-separated myself from all the junk in my environment, I'll be able to walk unaffected in the world when I need to. That will be a wonderful freedom.

 
It's working! At least so far. This weekend, though busy in some respects, was nice and relaxing in others. Friday night was spent with relatives from Phoenix who happened to be in town. Saturday was mostly a get-things-done kind of day; I spent the evening playing A-Train and crocheting, though, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Sunday involved lunch with family and the taking in of Buggies N Blues, which is a regional car show of sorts. I went grocery shopping later and was forced to haul groceries around in a downpour, which (oddly) didn't really bother me.

And now it is Monday. Normally that should depress me, but it doesn't. I've learned something about optimism lately. True optimism is not blinding oneself to reality, but instead facing it and choosing to have a good attitude about it anyway, and looking for the good in every situation. I used to hate hearing that... "Choose your attitude, you're in charge of how you feel." And I would still contend that a person has a right to be upset about some things. But there is an element of choice in there, and I've discovered that I can be a happier person if I'm willing to look on the bright side a little more often.

So... yes... it is working. I have finally found a little peace, a little balance in my life. And I have also found a faith that works. The problem was not only that I couldn't let God accept me in my humanity... I also wasn't letting myself accept Him in His divinity. So much of modern Christianity nowadays is trying to teach you that God is your best friend; and I suppose in a sense He is. But that concept puts you on a level with Him, and that just doesn't work. God is GOD. He does mysterious things sometimes, and often doesn't explain Himself. He is up there, and I am down here; and while I do believe we are to have a personal relationship with Him, that relationship can't be limited to "best friend." In some ways, that approach puts God in a smaller box than the more traditional Christian view of Him.

I know I'm on to something here because ever since I've acknowledged this, my respect for God has increased along with my contentment as His child. I don't have to understand everything. In a way, it frees me to have faith. I now know that faith isn't blind sheeplike behavior. It's more the realization that God is in charge and knows what He's doing. That changes everything. One could compare it to a child taking his broken toys to his father. "Daddy, YOU fix it." There is rest and reassurance in leaving things to God, in recognizing that if I can't make sense of things, He can.

I sound like a Sunday school teacher. But I don't care. I've finally found something concrete upon which I can hang all my hopes and fears, and I am NOT letting go, no matter what it costs. I have found my peace.

 
Hmm. The only constancy about me is the fact that I am always changing.

Doing much better today... not entirely sure what's different. Yesterday was nice and peaceful. Rain is, for some reason, just as conducive to peace as sunshine, for me. If it's going to be gray outside, it might as well rain. I went shopping and started my Christmas craft for the year (it's a blanket, so if it's going to be done by Christmas, I had to start it now). I'm also back to using my planner. Order is nice.

Today, on the other hand, is half-sunny already. Through the north window I can see fragments of leftover rain clouds speeding by my workplace. That window is the best part of my job. They're zipping along at quite a pace, actually. Clouds are beautiful.

Yes... things are better. The odd part is, I think the change is resulting from what I'm exposing myself to. Last night I left the TV off for once, and I haven't listened to anything rowdier than George Winston or Ghost In The Machine for the past couple days. I'm not saying loud music is bad or anything. But... pop culture just isn't my thing. Most days I do better with classical music, a sewing craft, or a movie like Anne of Green Gables. Or all three. There are days I can act my age, but they should be left at that. I'm never going to be part of that world. At this point, I don't think I want to be. It isn't me. I'm tired of trying to be something that's not me. So what if the rest of the world doesn't understand? If they need to, God will take care of that.

I suppose that must be the other reason why I'm peaceful. I quit fighting to understand God and just accepted Him. The Bible says He accepts me, though that's hard for me to believe; and He knows me through and through, better than I do. He'll know at what pace I can handle change. I just have to keep my faith simple. All that stuff about coming to God like a child... if a child can understand, then it must not be as complicated as I was trying to make it.

So, on with life. Hopefully I'll find myself much closer to the peace my heart is longing for so desperately.

 
Okay, this isn't working. I can't leave my idealism behind. For the past several days, I've been trying to live like a nominal Christian to see if it would give me some peace. Instead, I get the same empty feeling as when you eat chocolate when what you really want is chicken noodle soup. How is it possible that, by losing my idealism, I lose touch with reality? That's not logical. All I know, though, is that disillusioned cynicism isn't getting me anywhere worth going to. All that makes life worth living disappears, and I am left with a mediocre half-alive existence.

So I can't be happy in the faith, and can't be happy out of it, and can't be happy in between. Where is my peace? How can I stand content before a God who, though He may accept me for what I am, refuses to leave me there? It's like He's saying "I love you, child... now change for Me." That means every time I fail, it makes Him sad. I can't live with knowledge of that. And if I do fail... how much failing will He take from me? Lately, the only acknowledgement of Him that I've been able to make is that He's there and He's good. Beyond that, I haven't been "living for Him" by the Christian definition. Is that equivalent to turning one's back on God? If I am too lazy or weak or distrustful to live as I should--if I make conscious choices to do things that I know are wrong--is that the same as not loving Him? I can't love Him enough. It's not humanly possible. But if He judges by the heart instead of the law, am I not still condemned? My motives will never be truly pure. I know myself well enough now to be sure of this.

I have no energy left to fight myself or anyone else. If that's what faith takes, I just can't do it on my own. God help...

 
Cheese just gets better with age. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

HaHA! Didn't think you'd get a blog post on Sunday of all days, now did you!? (By the way, English majors, in which order is it most grammatically correct to end a sentence... "?!" or "!?"?) Yes, dear readers, I just had to blog today. For a major event has taken place... Tot has just bought her very own first bag of FLOUR. Ever. I promise you, it won't be the last.

Ah for the good old days, when grocery-bag-fillers carefully organized groceries so as to keep like items together... frozen foodstuffs in one bag, fruit in another, etc. Unfortunately, times have changed. I have, however, come up with my own plan by which to outsmart them. All you have to do is pile like items together on the runway thingamabob. As the grocery-bag-filler fills the bags, for some reason the subliminal suggestion of order (and convenience of already-established piles) works its way deep into the recesses of the worker's brain, and magically you find your items in more or less reasonably sensible divisions when you empty the bags upon returning home. Yes. There you have it. That is all.

What a beautiful day! Yes it's windy, but that's all that stands between "balmy summer afternoon" and "sticky storm-breeding weather." Although I do believe storms are expected for this evening. Hmm. Must remember to put my car in the garage. I hand-washed it yesterday, and don't care to have rain leaving water spots all over its lovely shiny exterior. As I was saying, however, it's been a wonderful day weather-wise. My family and I procured a bucket of KFC chicken and picnicked amongst the river-bottom trees. We enjoyed ourselves despite the strong wind. Aside from muscle fatigue from yesterday's adventures and a slight case of dehydration, I couldn't be in a better condition to delight in summer's heady, intense impression of... green. Everything is green. I like green, though. So it's all good.

Off I go to inundate my system with more water (still making up for lost consumption) and find myself something to eat. Have a great day!... week!... month! (Must address ALL my readers, you know, frequent or nonfrequent. Political correctness for the blogging world.)

 
Cheese just gets better with age. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

HaHA! Didn't think you'd get a blog post on Sunday of all days, now did you!? (By the way, English majors, in which order is it most grammatically correct to end a sentence... "?!" or "!?"?) Yes, dear readers, I just had to blog today. For a major event has taken place... Tot has just bought her very own first bag of FLOUR. Ever. I promise you, it won't be the last.

Ah for the good old days, when grocery-bag-fillers carefully organized groceries so as to keep like items together... frozen foodstuffs in one bag, fruit in another, etc. Unfortunately, times have changed. I have, however, come up with my own plan by which to outsmart them. All you have to do is pile like items together on the runway thingamabob. As the grocery-bag-filler fills the bags, for some reason the subliminal suggestion of order (and convenience of already-established piles) works its way deep into the recesses of the worker's brain, and magically you find your items in more or less reasonably sensible divisions when you empty the bags upon returning home. Yes. There you have it. That is all.

What a beautiful day! Yes it's windy, but that's all that stands between "balmy summer afternoon" and "sticky storm-breeding weather." Although I do believe storms are expected for this evening. Hmm. Must remember to put my car in the garage. I hand-washed it yesterday, and don't care to have rain leaving water spots all over its lovely shiny exterior. As I was saying, however, it's been a wonderful day weather-wise. My family and I procured a bucket of KFC chicken and picnicked amongst the river-bottom trees. We enjoyed ourselves despite the strong wind. Aside from muscle fatigue from yesterday's adventures and a slight case of dehydration, I couldn't be in a better condition to delight in summer's heady, intense impression of... green. Everything is green. I like green, though. So it's all good.

Off I go to inundate my system with more water (still making up for lost consumption) and find myself something to eat. Have a great day!... week!... month! (Must address ALL my readers, you know, frequent or nonfrequent. Political correctness for the blogging world.)

 
Cheese just gets better with age. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

HaHA! Didn't think you'd get a blog post on Sunday of all days, now did you!? (By the way, English majors, in which order is it most grammatically correct to end a sentence... "?!" or "!?"?) Yes, dear readers, I just had to blog today. For a major event has taken place... Tot has just bought her very own first bag of FLOUR. Ever. I promise you, it won't be the last.

Ah for the good old days, when grocery-bag-fillers carefully organized groceries so as to keep like items together... frozen foodstuffs in one bag, fruit in another, etc. Unfortunately, times have changed. I have, however, come up with my own plan by which to outsmart them. All you have to do is pile like items together on the runway thingamabob. As the grocery-bag-filler fills the bags, for some reason the subliminal suggestion of order (and convenience of already-established piles) works its way deep into the recesses of the worker's brain, and magically you find your items in more or less reasonably sensible divisions when you empty the bags upon returning home. Yes. There you have it. That is all.

What a beautiful day! Yes it's windy, but that's all that stands between "balmy summer afternoon" and "sticky storm-breeding weather." Although I do believe storms are expected for this evening. Hmm. Must remember to put my car in the garage. I hand-washed it yesterday, and don't care to have rain leaving water spots all over its lovely shiny exterior. As I was saying, however, it's been a wonderful day weather-wise. My family and I procured a bucket of KFC chicken and picnicked amongst the river-bottom trees. We enjoyed ourselves despite the strong wind. Aside from muscle fatigue from yesterday's adventures and a slight case of dehydration, I couldn't be in a better condition to delight in summer's heady, intense impression of... green. Everything is green. I like green, though. So it's all good.

Off I go to inundate my system with more water (still making up for lost consumption) and find myself something to eat. Have a great day!... week!... month! (Must address ALL my readers, you know, frequent or nonfrequent. Political correctness for the blogging world.)

 
Question for the day: how do cats know to be fluffy and cute when they want something?

It's a beautiful day and I'm in a beautiful mood! Spent last night watching Return of the Jedi with my sister and a couple old friends. We had an in-depth conversation about the nuances of Star Wars history and character development. I haven't had that much fun in a long time. Today promises to be fun as well; sometime tonight I will be planting flowers in my parents' yard. Tomorrow, provided the lovely weather continues, I need to wash my car. For some reason I just can't bring myself to wash it the normal way, at the gas station; hand-washing lasts longer and looks so much nicer.

Things are looking up. I'm not sure why, but I feel more myself today than I have in quite awhile. Sunshine does amazing things to brighten a person's outlook.

 
Hmm. The past week has been rather informative for me. How many of these perspective changes must I go through in such a short period of time? Hopefully I am progressing closer to the truth as I go.

What's the difference between realism and pessimism? If I think I can tell the difference, am I an optimist? Hehehe. I have decided I am a realist with a pessimist bent. This is a fact about my personality, and it's probably never going to change; though I will acknowledge that I have made strides toward positivity in the past several months or so... perhaps the past several years. If I can achieve realism rather than pessimism, I am doing well. The aspect of this problem that really complicates things is the fact that I am an idealist as well... a hopeless romantic, a woman who sees life as it is but knows it's supposed to be better, and can't give up the dream that there might be some way to reach a better understanding, a better state of things. Is that why I believe the way I do about God? Perhaps. I can't deny what my heart knows most of all; and that, above everything else, is the quintessential essence of my second sight. I "see" when my realism and idealism mesh to show me the truth, in all its many-colored layers and facets. In that truth somewhere, I see God; and that is why I believe in Him.

Wow. I've never before been able to sum up the reason for my faith like that. How curious.

So. How am I going to make realism and Christianity jive on an intellectual basis? This was the question meandering about in my brain over the course of the weekend. Oddly enough, it was a heart question too. I should say "it is" rather than "it was," since I haven't fully answered the question yet. But I think I've made some progress. My first major question is, why do people separate the material and spiritual world the way they do? Obviously there is a clear difference; however, the two are inexplicably intertwined, and the moment you separate them you lose all hope of coming to some understanding of either one. People speak of philosophical ideas as though they were entirely based upon human behavior operating in a physical environment; and then those same people discuss Christian concepts as though they belonged in some high spiritual realm, beyond the reach of your average human personality. Something is inherently wrong with that. If Christianity is a true worldview, its principles should be directly applicable to life at its barest minimum: everyday existence as millions of people know it, from the poorest beggar to the richest bureaucrat. Somewhere deep down, I still believe it is; but those principles have been so inexorably religion-ized... captured and framed in the rose-colored stained-glass perspectives in which the Church is so bogged down these days. It's no wonder the typical educated American watches Christian behavior in puzzled disbelief. I'm a Christian myself and it still mystifies, confuses, sometimes even dismays me.

My second major question is, once a person acknowledges the involved nature of the spiritual aspect, how is it to be applied? A friend once told me that he is able to recognize spiritual truth, yet prioritize his decisions based on something else... loyalty to family in his case. I told him that if he really saw that truth in the first place, he shouldn't have to make that distinction; there shouldn't be a conflict. However, something in me understands what he was saying. If the highest love a person knows is love for his family, when the pressure is on he will act according to that love. Should love for God and human love conflict, which will a person choose? If I were in Abraham's shoes, I'm not sure I'd have enough faith to put my own son to death for the sake of a God I couldn't touch or feel. Does that mean I'm not a Christian, since I can't obey my own principles above all others? If that were true, how many who claim that name would stand when put to the test? I suppose this is where the mercy of God comes in. And yet... if I had a significant other who, when tested, would act in the best interest of someone else and not me, I doubt I'd be forgiving at all. So is it God's problem, or mine? Is it that God is too just to be that merciful, or is it that I don't understand mercy well enough to see how He could be that merciful? I've heard the arguments of Christians on both sides of that camp, and I still don't know which is true. I'd like to say it doesn't matter, but it does, hugely. I know I can't be as devoted as others. My love for God boils down to a desire to do what's right, and a hope that such a God exists who, upon seeing me for what I really am, accepts me anyway. The more I face myself, the less that seems possible. Is this kind of love enough? I can't achieve the floaty, head-over-heels love that I see other Christians have for Him. I've tried, with all the effort I could muster, and it just won't happen. What does that mean?

According to Scripture, Jesus died for humanity while we were still sinning. I can only hope that means that God looks past our inability to love Him the way we should. Isn't that what grace is, really? I'm not suggesting we should abuse the privilege. But if there's anything I've found out lately, it's that I can't love Him enough on my own. I'm simply not strong enough. How can I be held accountable for that when it's clearly not a choice?

It all comes back down to trust. I have to trust that God is big enough to deal with the tangled mess I have become, or was all along I guess. Faith and trust are remarkably similar concepts. Maybe that's why I have so much trouble with both of them.