Hold on to your butts! --Part 1

I am 23 years old, and some days I feel like I'm back in junior high. Aren't I supposed to be older than this? Wiser? Not as juvenile? I have things in my life I need to work on; some large and important (money), some small and inconsequential (laundry). But I think the root of these basic flaws lies in the fact that I, like so many humans, am striving to find that something more. Whether you define 'more' as a person, a situation, a job--that's up to you.

In the past, instead of feeling empowered to pursue this missing puzzle piece in my life, I felt empty and lazy. I became cornered into a nonchalant philosophy that did me no good. I became inconsistent and unreliable. I started relationships with people that I didn’t care about and didn’t want to care about. I was wasting time.

I was drifting. Watching the world evolve around me and not feeling fulfilled enough to know that I was a part of it. I wanted nothing more than to be the person that I know I am. To share love, kindness, goodness with the world around me. But the world is also dark, and cold. And that kind of intimidation pushed my true feelings and yearnings into suppression, leaving me more emotionally distant than I let on. I kept going through the motions with people that deserved better, all the while settling for one more night with not enough sleep; one more trip to McDonalds for the “convenience” of a dollar menu item.

This stagnant lifestyle came to a head a few months ago. One of my favorite things to do when I need to collect myself is taking a night drive. There's something calming to me about just hitting the highway and cruising for awhile. Totally alone with my thoughts, or finding solace in whatever music I set my iPod to play. Instead of taking that night drive, I drove around the neighborhood for all of ten minutes, during which I convinced myself that the price of gas had taken that ability away from me.

Lester Burnham once said that "it's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself."

What I did in that moment truly surprised me. It's one thing to talk to others about turning to God, to tell your friends how you always pray, etc. It's something else entirely when the rubber meets the road, and you can turn to the things of the world as a solution to your problems/frustration/negativity, or you can turn to Door #2, which obviously requires a lot more faith. I started talking to God again, like I used to...like I did in junior high. The rest, as they say, is history.

Lately I've been legitimately trying to keep my life in line with what He wants. I get the feeling he knows I'm trying, too...because when I've most needed help, when I've most been looking for a swift kick in the pants, when I've most needed a push to get somewhere--He's shown me the door, cracked open the window, and gave me the shovel to dig myself out. Now, months later, I'm here in a city I love, working at something challenging but enjoyable for me.

And then out of nowhere, right as I start to get comfy--He takes a 2x4 to my face and leaves me questioning so much. I feel completely flabbergasted, totally overwhelmed, yet strangely determined all at once.

You'll understand why when you read Part 2.