uhhh ... ok, thanks
"We are apt to be busy about everything but that which concerns our spiritual progress, and at the end of a profitless day we snatch up a Bible or [a devotional booklet] and read a few verses, and it does us good for precisely three-quarters of a second. We have to take time to be diligent. Meditation is not being like a pebble in a brook, allowing the waters of thought to flow over us; that is reverie. Meditation is the most intense spiritual act; it brings every part of the body and mind into harness. To be spiritual by effort is a sure sign of false relationship to God; to be obedient by effort in the initial stages is a sure sign that we are determined to obey God at all costs. Take time. Remember we have all the time there is. The majority of us waste time and want to encroach on eternity. 'Oh well, I will think about these things when I have time.' The only time you will have is the day after you are dead, and that will be eternity. An hour, or half an hour, of daily attention to and meditation on our own spiritual life is the secret of progress."
- Oswald Chambers
Just got this quote in one of my list-generated emails that I usually delete without reading (because I get about 5 different ones). I read it today, and I can't but help but wonder if there was a reason I didn't just delete this one. Not that I see myself in this writing at all ... and I'm sure
you don't either.
Man, talk about getting bonked over the head. But I don't have time to think about it now. I'll think about these things later when I have time.
epiphanies through karaoke
Last night was a strange one.
I met up with some old college friends to go see a friend (one of their friends, no one I know) sing karaoke at a place in the city. Boy, was I in for a treat. Having never been to witness one of these wonderful spectacles, I had no idea what to expect. Now, I know that I should expect to want to leave just a few moments after I walk through the door.
It wasn't all bad. There was one person who sang who could actually sing, but it was one of my college friends. She has an amazing voice, and she can sing a New Kids on the Block song and make it sound good. Not that I actually know any NKOTB's songs ... and I never had their poster on my bedroom wall either (let's just set that rumor straight right now).
Anyway, back to the karaoke madness. Wow. I used to think that I had a bad voice, but these people made me feel pretty good about my pipes. Enough of the insults, back to the story. Ok, so I had a couple drinks ... and I have not had a drink in months and months and months. But it was basically a necessity in order to be able to stay in this place and not bust out laughing, or more realistically - burst into tears.
And I realized something. I have never been a big drinker, so I'm not sure I ever put this much thought into it before. But alcohol has a very unsatisfactory effect on me. It almost acts as a big search light ... everything in my life that I am unhappy about or unsatisfied with, is brought into the light when I drink. I guess, as some of my friends would tell me, maybe the key is that I don't drink enough. If I drank a little more, I would be happy and oblivious and nauseous and all would be well with the world. But I drink just enough for a little buzz that fades quickly and turns into an ache and yearning for something more ... and not more alcohol, but something that's
more satisfying. And of course, when I'm a little fuzzy, I'm not thinking about God and how He is the only One who can truly satisfy me ... though that would sound pretty impressive and righteous, wouldn't it?
Nope, my thoughts ran all over the place, from wanting a different job, to wishing for a better apartment, and they at last landed on memories of an ex-boyfriend. Maybe if I were with him, then I would be satisfied. And I was literally 1 inch (the space between my fingers and the keypad on my cell phone) from calling him, but I was walking up the stairs to my apartment at the time, and I tripped on a step, and I ended up dropping my phone. In the minute it took me to retrieve my phone, I had a brief flash of clarity as I realized there was absolutely nothing out there that could satisfy me at that moment. Sure, it might have felt nice to meet up with him and maybe feel his arms around me and convince myself that it was enough. But if I really allowed myself to look at those areas that were being flooded by the beams of the search light, I would have to admit that nothing and noone can satisfy me except the One who created me and knows the little quirks and eccentricities of my heart.
As I let my dogs out and took them for a walk, I gazed up at the sky and saw the stars twinkling at me. And I remembered that I had seen those same stars the night before, when I had been totally lucid and feeling happy because of a simple night out of dinner and a movie with some friends. The stars were just a tiny little symbol of their Creator, and I was reminded how He is always there, whether I'm satisfied or longing for more, and He wants to satisfy me and dull the ache and hold me as the dizziness passes away and my fuzzy thoughts clear.
Who would have thought a night full of bad renditions of hard rock songs and terrible dance moves would end in me being a bit closer to the Maker of the Universe?
city of Almost, state of What If
It seems like my life is full of ideas lately. Ideas of where I should go, and what I should do. Big ideas, small ideas, ideas about who I wish I was, and ideas about who I really am. Do I even know the real me, is it someone I recognize when I look in the mirror? Or are there still all these different versions of me, like I used to have growing up? The church/youth group version of me, the school version of me, the family version of me ... when I changed who I was and what I said to suit my surroundings, in an effort to fit in at any given time in any given place.
I don't want to be that person of many faces and many voices. I want to be
me ...
Krista ... but who is that really? And what do I do? My life seems so inconsequential as of late. I do things, but am I really
doing anything? How is my life affecting anyone else? I read stories about great explorers and people whose courage changed the course of history, and I go to church and listen to the missionaries talk about going to remote villages and dangerous countries ... and I close the books and sit on the pews and think about what I'm going to have for lunch, or how I need to go get the oil changed in my car. What am I doing?
And I think lately my friends are probably sick of me, because I call them or email them and tell them about the latest idea that's floating around in my head.
**
Hey, I finally figured it out -- I'm going to be a policewoman! **
** Ok, now I really mean it this time ... I'm going to hop on a plane and go to Asia and teach little Korean children how to conjugate their English verbs and have their tenses agree. **
** Forget the police and Asia thing, I'm going to go back to school and be a teacher here in the U.S. **
But what do I actually do with any of these ideas? I say them out loud, as if speaking them will cause them to materialize. And then I let the words fall to the ground, without watering them or tending to them again.
There are all these things I
almost did. I almost transferred to a college in California my junior year, I almost took a job in Denver right after college. But the truth is - I didn't. And whether my decisions were right or wrong, they're done. There are some different opportunities in front of me now, and part of my fear in neglecting those opportunities is the "almost" idea. Are these things that I want to tell someone later that I almost did? Am I going to regret not doing them? And if so, is it possible for me to do everything so that I don't regret
not doing it? Am I even making sense?
What I am realizing though is that I am where I am now for a reason. At the end of this time, I don't want to have to say "I
almost lived my life" or "
What if I had lived each day as it came, instead of wondering where the next day would take me?"
What if I lived a life where I trusted the One who created everything around me, and I
almost lived as the lillies of the field and the birds of the air? Now that would be something.
