Tears broke for the first time in a while and I'm all the better for it. Surely I've picked at this topic a little bit in the past, but to stipulate to facts: since I was young I've always tried at being the grand fixer of all things Life. Every potential source of pain or unrest I sensed in others I would soak up and run myself dry to invest myself into. How much I truly helped or hurt is neither here nor there. Impossible to calculate. But of course I tried this for some time and last night was my breaking point. What started out as simple prayer for me to better myself became a prayer for understanding. Wasn't long before a clear glimpse of who I'd been trying to be unveiled itself. The reality is that how I've been conducting my life isn't wrong as a concept. If anything, it's respectable. It's the implementation that hurt me. I tried being everybody's "be-all, end-all" for any obstacle in their life and felt everything. I tried to get too close and onto the ground with everyone I came into contact with-- to the point that my emotions basically filed for bankruptcy and I became a large shell for a majority of the day. I continued to serve others and oddly enough it helped bring me back.
I remember thinking while lost in reverie:
"Why is serving that much more satisfying when I have all this pain? When I feel I have nothing left to give? I think I finally understand missionary work"
The focus was never aimed inward. My heart, and I imagine God, instead urged me to keep serving. So I did without question. The night rolled on and peace found me as the sun sunk lower. A party for a high school friend sprang up soon after. The offer any other night might've been fine but I was on the cusp of epiphany so I showed early just to say hi, and upon the arrival of warning waves of partiers took my leave. A friend who's company I hadn't enjoyed for some time was at the house when I walked in. After a brief greeting I retreated to my room where the wonderful "break down" and "build up" took place.
My roommate came back to check in on me, She said this:
"You've been trying for too long... You can't be everything for everyone. Nobody can, that's God's job. You can't just take all these people's pain. All you can do is be there to cushion the blow, show them love... And that's more than enough, Jon."
I told her I was okay once I'd calmed, so quietly she left. Spirits lifted, smile finding it's place on my face, I plopped back onto the sheets with eyes closed to the ceiling, and the prayer went something like this:
God, I know I mistreat it, mislead it, drive it like a destruction derby contestant and have trouble seeing it, but thank you for this heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for this heart that chases you, and let's me smile all along the way.
Joy from a place deep rose from a smolder, and my love messaged me soon after, like the world had been waiting. What it means? I have no idea. But I also don't fully know why I place the flowers at her door daily. They're not last ditch efforts to win her heart, nor are they some dumb metaphor. It just feels right. Simple and clean.
What more reason do I need than that? Anyway
Life is crazy/good/crazy good,
God is great,
And I'm content
I remember thinking while lost in reverie:
"Why is serving that much more satisfying when I have all this pain? When I feel I have nothing left to give? I think I finally understand missionary work"
The focus was never aimed inward. My heart, and I imagine God, instead urged me to keep serving. So I did without question. The night rolled on and peace found me as the sun sunk lower. A party for a high school friend sprang up soon after. The offer any other night might've been fine but I was on the cusp of epiphany so I showed early just to say hi, and upon the arrival of warning waves of partiers took my leave. A friend who's company I hadn't enjoyed for some time was at the house when I walked in. After a brief greeting I retreated to my room where the wonderful "break down" and "build up" took place.
My roommate came back to check in on me, She said this:
"You've been trying for too long... You can't be everything for everyone. Nobody can, that's God's job. You can't just take all these people's pain. All you can do is be there to cushion the blow, show them love... And that's more than enough, Jon."
I told her I was okay once I'd calmed, so quietly she left. Spirits lifted, smile finding it's place on my face, I plopped back onto the sheets with eyes closed to the ceiling, and the prayer went something like this:
God, I know I mistreat it, mislead it, drive it like a destruction derby contestant and have trouble seeing it, but thank you for this heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for this heart that chases you, and let's me smile all along the way.
Joy from a place deep rose from a smolder, and my love messaged me soon after, like the world had been waiting. What it means? I have no idea. But I also don't fully know why I place the flowers at her door daily. They're not last ditch efforts to win her heart, nor are they some dumb metaphor. It just feels right. Simple and clean.
What more reason do I need than that? Anyway
Life is crazy/good/crazy good,
God is great,
And I'm content
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