I've been journeying with God on-and-off for the past months. Here's how the cycle goes. After days or weeks of not fighting for my time with Him, I would be drawn through a Christian song or a really good Christian book. Then I'd be sentimental, then cry, and feel guilty yet equally loved and make a pledge to be a better Christian. To get to know Him more. That I wouldn't skip long days without praying or having my devotion. After sometime, the motivation would once again deteriorate. Oh, I'm too busy I have to finish this. Oh, this seems so exciting I can always get back to my devotion. Oh, God will understand.
I'm writing this down because today was another high point in that cycle and I just want to crush the cycle. I want every day to be a fighting day for time with God. Because in my happy place, I started making plans for myself. I started making plans to achieve by myself. I totally forgot about God's plans and now that I want to follow Him, I am completely, miserably lost.
I have to restore my walk with God. I have to start somewhere, I have to start there. I have to admit it, and I don't want to end this on some glorious note that it will be alright soon and that I will be redeemed. (Although most likely, this will be the case for all God's children.) I just want to say it now. My pride is wounded. I am crippled and I keep trying to get up. I cannot accept the fact that I am crippled and I am not doing well. Because people will judge me. And though it shouldn't, it matters so much to me. I am ashamed that I acted like the most intellectual of all intellectuals. It was a slap on my face to know that I am not. And yet, I am nursing the pain.
I just want it all to be okay. I just want to get back on the track that I used to follow so well. To experience the good and the bad, and not to get too focused that I only get the good.
Dear God, I truly do not know where I am going. I badly want to. But I know my heart is not ready. So I want You to make it ready. Grant me humility, allow me to accept that things cannot always be perfect, that things cannot be planned, and the best plans are those that are Yours, revealed in Your proper timing. Teach me to be calm, but strong enough to fight. To not be satisfied with a life that is comfortable and yet pointless. Please Lord, I cannot live without direction. I cannot live without knowing. Please help me.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Layers
Some people are made of layers and layers. It’s like you think you know them but you honestly don’t. The thing is, they’re not unpredictable. It’s just that it takes much wisdom and sensitivity to bring out the deepest part of their being.
I guess the sad part is that the layers are very much the offspring of years of losing trust and not having it rebuilt, of having something stolen and no longer returned. I never wanted layers, but in the process of getting my second and nth chances I had inevitably put one guard over another, one damage getting resolved after another.
But-—what I love most about being a person of layers is that I surprise people. It always seems like they have so much to learn about me even after years of knowing me. And I guess that’s the beauty of it, that no matter how complicated it may seem, there’s something new and wonderful to take in.
That is why I don’t have any regrets for how I turned out-—excited when I am interested and obsessed when I am passionate. Thirsty for knowledge, skeptical when bored, silent when reeling, squealing when I’m over-the-top happy—these are all, I am proud to say, me. Though a number of the things I’ve just enumerated tend to change depending on the situation, I frankly don’t feel bothered that my layers also surprise me. One minute I’m too perky, the next I’m a hundred percent focused. That is perfectly fine because it proves I’m human.
Lastly, I should never have questioned if I did good and if those good things that I did were well enough. I also don’t have any apologies for how I reacted and the efforts I struggled to exert just to allow people to see through my layers. If they don’t get it, if it had become too complicated to have at least an inkling of how I was feeling, then I am convinced of one thing and one thing only: it is not my loss.
I guess the sad part is that the layers are very much the offspring of years of losing trust and not having it rebuilt, of having something stolen and no longer returned. I never wanted layers, but in the process of getting my second and nth chances I had inevitably put one guard over another, one damage getting resolved after another.
But-—what I love most about being a person of layers is that I surprise people. It always seems like they have so much to learn about me even after years of knowing me. And I guess that’s the beauty of it, that no matter how complicated it may seem, there’s something new and wonderful to take in.
That is why I don’t have any regrets for how I turned out-—excited when I am interested and obsessed when I am passionate. Thirsty for knowledge, skeptical when bored, silent when reeling, squealing when I’m over-the-top happy—these are all, I am proud to say, me. Though a number of the things I’ve just enumerated tend to change depending on the situation, I frankly don’t feel bothered that my layers also surprise me. One minute I’m too perky, the next I’m a hundred percent focused. That is perfectly fine because it proves I’m human.
Lastly, I should never have questioned if I did good and if those good things that I did were well enough. I also don’t have any apologies for how I reacted and the efforts I struggled to exert just to allow people to see through my layers. If they don’t get it, if it had become too complicated to have at least an inkling of how I was feeling, then I am convinced of one thing and one thing only: it is not my loss.
