Sitting Down

This morning I woke up on a mission to clean up the pile of logs in the backyard for some extra cash. I'm a bit shamed to admit that I didn't last long in the hot sun with those heavy maggoty logs. I soon decided it was a job for a cooler day and so ended after an hour and a half; exhausted. I remember admitting to my mom soon after that I was afraid if I stopped moving, I would cease to start again for the whole rest of the day. This has been the struggle of my summer, and I am realizing, on a larger scale-- the struggle of this past year.

I feel as though I have sat down in Niverville and got myself all comfortable. It has taken me this long to gather my resolve to get up again and get out there. And there is a feeling, now all to common to me, that goes along with sitting down. Well maybe not just sitting down, but sitting down for too long. Because I am sure that sitting down for a little while is purposeful and satisfying after some hard work is done. But when you sit down for too long there becomes this feeling that you lack purpose, or motivation, it's just a yucky feeling that perhaps is opposite to the sense of accomplishment. And for some reason, the longer you sit, the harder it is to get up as well.

I am sure there is a time of life where sitting down might be a good thing if it is related to "settling down". But I would think even then there will be many opportunities to practice the skill of self-motivation, moreso on the day-to-day scale. Or perhaps, in that time, sitting-down for too long will be a luxury one can't afford, and I hope I will have learned to be thankful for it.

Fear

I've lived my life with a definition of fear that only included the type of things found in horror movies. But now as my definition of fear widens, so does my frustration that I have been and am trapped by so many of these new founded fear categories. My greatest fear of late is being misunderstood. I guess it's a bit of a step-up from ghosts and demons. But I'm finding it a little harder to conquer. It's hard not to be able to speak without later fearing that it might have been taken the wrong way. Or even in simple conversation, did I talk to much? And if so, did I talk to much about myself? Did I say something arrogant? Did I say some about someone else that they thought was rude? I didn't mean it to be! Did I listen enough, or show I cared enough? All these things I can wonder to the point where a good conversation can later be a source of shame to recall. I think that even with this struggle I can rejoice because it shows me something of the human condition. We all want to be known and understood, by what is in our hearts, deep down inside all the faults and failures and even with all the faults and failures. We want to know that when we converse someone can see past the number of negative vs. positive adjectives we used to see our heart behind the words. And beyond just being understood...buhbadaBUH...we want to be loved. Known, understood, and loved.

Realizing that no human on this earth can ever know me in full makes me grateful that God does. Grateful that I don't have to exist being the only one to know what is going on inside my heart. I don't have to live my life not being understood by anyone but myself, because there will always be my God that understands me in full, and even beyond just understanding me, He loves me.