It’s been a short week (Why doesn’t anyone ever say that– a short week?) full to the brim and busy. Moving from one thing to the next, the days blur together in fast forward. Sometimes I wonder what peace feels like. Maybe it’s a room with blue walls that is silent. Maybe it’s every word, every thought in my head spelled out on paper, no longer competing for prominence. Maybe it’s hearing God say “Well done.”, or feeling wrapped up in His love. If the wrestling in my heart was resolved maybe there would be peace, but at this point I have little hope of that happening so I fight on.
Mostly I fight against myself, which is very inefficient and frustrating. I don’t really try to stop the conflict; I don’t know why.Perhaps part of me knows that would be impossible. Would it? And would peace be worth the difficulty of slowing that fight, of stopping it? Would it be worth the sacrifice? Honestly I doubt it would, and I suspect that maintaining the peace would be just as difficult as attaining it.
I’m sorry. This is another unhappy, pity party post that you’re wading through. It’s probably choppy too, since I’m tired. It’s not that my life is hard, on the contrary I’m extremely blessed. I have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving: I am surrounded by people who love me regardless of how messed up I am, I’m an American and thus free to write whatever I like, I have food and clothes, there is a God who loves me… I must seem very ungrateful when I should be thankful that I even have the opportunity to be busy with work and education and people.
Indeed, I am blessed physically and spiritually, but I get stuck in what I lack, mostly spiritually. I get mad at myself. I feel guilty. But you didn’t come here to hear about my failings. Honestly, I don’t know why you come . I can’t even claim that it’s because I’m real (not that I lie here, it’s just the omissions) so I don’t know why you come back to read.
There’s a song that says “This is your life, are you who you want to be? This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be when the world was younger, and you had everything to lose?” I wonder if anyone can answer yes to those questions and say that they are who they aspired to be when they were young. I cannot. I didn’t aspire to be too busy to think, or the be wrestling with myself, but such is life I guess. You never attain perfection. Maybe perfection is another word for peace.