the first becomes last

    I have been swallowed whole by a certain exhaustion that accompanies being an evangelical Christian. It's not the relationship with God that exhausts me, it's the relationship we're meant to have with other Christians. So often I find myself the odd one out in the notion "walking by faith". Some see this as a passion filled, on fire dance through joy with God. I see this as a dry, depressing, taxing hike trusting that God is somewhere up the path making a way for you, but certainly he's not grabbing my hands and spinning in excited circles with me.


   I get tired of putting on this facade that I'm passionate, and on fire, and full of joy when really all I am is .burnt.out.
I have faith that I won't always be in this desert, but I don't necessarily see an end in sight. I think that's what faith is, you know, the whole seeing the unseen thing. 


   But I'm getting tired. Tired of going to people with my problems and only hearing: "Well have you prayed about it?" Tired of looking for sympathy and getting "God works in mysterious ways" as my one comfort. Aren't we supposed to rejoice with the joyful and mourn with the sad? Isn't it enough to not have to feel like it's my fault God has put me here? I'm tired of being asked to perform at my best when I can't follow through because what I need right now is a spirit that is resting quietly in the presence of God. 


   What I am learning out of all of this is that faith is made of stuff a lot grittier than twitterpation and excitement. Also, that those who are hurting will in turn hurt others and you can become vengeful, or sympathetic. 

Pairing gladness with regret

      A thought struck me tonight as I was washing my face: how do you pair gladness with regret? Can you? We must be able to, because people claim to do it all the time, or I suppose we are often lied to. I think of my parents, and the plans they had when they were young, neither has had them turn out as they expected. However, since their plans did not go as expected, we are now a family. I imagine, this is pairing gladness with regret. I can see it happening, but I cannot imagine it- for in my feeble mind there is only one or the other. How can I possibly have a regret I am glad in a sense to have? How am I able to hold something as both a loss and a gain at the same time?  I have the strong sense I am learning to do it now.
       I recently had my heart broken. I have never had that before, it is completely new to me. Anyone who hasn't had their's broken will think with every failed romance, it's shattered; but those who have truly had their hearts broken know there is something deeper about it, something almost sweeter about it. I am at one of those points in my life where right now I can not imagine pairing gladness with regret, I cannot imagine looking back to where I am and how I got here and being glad for it, because right now all I see and all that exists is the loss of a dear friend and the empty place where trust had been for so long. But I know, someday when things have come to a sort of fullness that accompanies being in the true will of God, whatever that looks like- I will be able to pair gladness with regret. 
       My Father never wanted to be a salesman- he wanted to be a marine. He couldn't when he injured his knee. My Mother never wanted to be a stay at home Mom, she wanted to be a zoologist but she took a break from school which led to meeting my father. I can see the gladness they have in that things worked out how they did, but it doesn't mean there isn't still regret that they hadn't gone on to do what they had wanted. When I have come to a strike of that balance, I will know I have gained a lot.