Digging Deep To Find The Me Inside

There’s a gospel song with the lyrics, “As I look back over my life—and I think things over—I can truly say—that I’ve been blessed—I gotta a testa-m-on-y!” And it’s true that I’ve been blessed over the years. Just this morning I was thinking how much I was blessed to just have to take one bus to and from work when some of my co-workers travel up to two hours to get to the same place. I was thinking the other day when I shot out in traffic to make the light how blessed I was (then) that God made it so that no other cars crashed into me. I owe so much of my existence to the mercy and grace (undeserved) to Christ, my Savior. But after all He does for me day after day I’ve become so distant from Him. The things I’m fortunate in having or experiencing no matter how great or small deserves some recognition and praise to the giver, because who am I to think that all I have is a birthright when people are dying every second in this world?

I believe that everything happens for a reason. So with that, I won’t say that the events that have transpired over the last twelve months were all bad or all a mistake. I also believe that in this life you are given the right to choose your destiny to some degree because with the certain obstacles or paths to take in life—it’s really up to us to choose which way to go. I am very scattered this morning, I know. I have so much that I want to say, but not sure if I should share it here. What I’m really saying is that over this past year I’ve made some changes—changes that might have been dramatic to some, shocking even. I lost about thirty pounds, fell in love, got an apartment, moved in with a guy, and just became so wrapped up into his world that I probably lost track of things. One of the biggest things I misplaced was my desire to write (completely). It’s like all I wanted and still want to do is be around, up under, beside and with him. On top of that and all those feelings and emotions of a relationship, I’m dealing with the actuality of being a grownup (which sucks bytheway).

Okay wait a minute, I just lied when I said writing was one of the biggest things I’ve misplaced—one of the most significant changes in my life is my fellowship with God. I haven’t been to church in months, besides a brief Thanksgiving service a couple of weeks ago. I was never a big reader of the bible (except during Sunday school or bible study) so I can’t really include that, but I guess I just sort of disappeared spiritually. Right here, I’m not going to blame anyone but myself here because I chose to do all of these things. I own up to it and will accept it. It’s just so weird lately—my life and the things I think about—how I got here compared to where I was last year. Sometimes I here myself thinking out loud that “god, I wish I was back in Mankato where everything was simplier.” (I know simplier is not a word). Some days I’m just like seriously this is happening? Seriously I’m going through this blah, blah, blah. I tell you—for all of the people who think you may love someone you only really know until that love is tried and tested and only then you will know that this will either make or break us.

All of these things relate to one another—God, writing, me, him, us, life. Writing still is affected by the transition I’m making in my life but I won’t even abandon it totally because deep down in one of the cockles of my heart it’s still there silently waiting to be my friend again.

I’m not going to proofread this because this is only the beginning of what I have to say.