Me in flux

It was a difficult enough week last week as I tried to negotiate our new office lease, the many rehearsals and performances of the “Everything” skit at church, Wednesday night youth and — oh yeah — put out a paper.

But it got a lot more difficult when I found out that the hope I was clinging tightly to had somehow slipped through my fingers. I have to be careful in how I write this, but most people know I’ve been looking for a change of scenery for a while now. And let’s just say that the opportunity arose that would have provided that change. But then, something that appeared to be a sure thing wasn’t a sure thing after all.

I’m crushed. As I sit here typing this, the terrible feeling still lingers, and it’s a feeling that can only be described as a type of homesickness. Add to that amazing worship experiences and Easter, and you have a man who is literally homesick to enter into that “sweet spot” that God has designed him for. Him, me — whatever.

It’s real easy to hear the “Christian” answer that God “has something better planned,” but it’s really difficult to internalize it. It’s tough to accept that as truth when you just feel stuck. My brain knows the truth; help my heart overcome its unbelief, Lord.

There are a lot of things that need to change in my life, I understand. Heck, we could take up an entire gigabyte of blog space discussing the ways I could improve just PHYSICALLY, on a shallow basis. Get into the mental and the spiritual, and you’re in for an ear-melting experience. So much needs to be done.

Do you ever get to the point when you just aren’t sure who you are anymore? It’s weird; I don’t really notice how much I’ve changed, or how numb I’ve become to my own self, until I catch a glimpse of who I really am, who I’ve been, or the things that make me come alive.

I have that experience when I hear choral music. I have that experience when I go to Eugene, see On the Rocks and eat at Burrito Boy. I have that experience when I perform in Christmas or Easter at church. I have that experience when I am around a large group of friends for an extended period of time, and we’re doing nothing but playing games and laughing.

Change is very difficult for me. I have to admit, the changes involved in getting married, and then, becoming a father, can be very taxing at times. Spend a short amount of time with me and my wife, and you’ll have no doubt of my love for her, and even strangers know how much I gush with pride for my son (I bust out a cell phone picture of him to just about anybody).

But I’d be lying if I didn’t say the responsibilities and the stresses of both of those callings (yes, they are callings) don’t wear on me. It’s tough; how does one negotiate the responsibilities of life with the things that make his heart sing? I know it’s possible; there are plenty of people who have pulled it off. But there are plenty more who haven’t, and they’re miserable, resentful, crotchety souls.

There was a time when I felt that the whole world was in front of me, that the future was exciting, and it was mine to grab. I don’t feel that anymore. I feel stagnant, stuck and drab. I want that feeling back, and when I have those experiences that I listed above, I’m energized to reclaim it, but I eventually putter out, discouraged and exhausted.

I miss being around lots of people, being completely ridiculous — not the decorum of a newspaperman. I miss having music be a large part of my life, which is only relegated to once a week. I miss performing, and I can feel it at the end of every Easter or Christmas I do. I’m not entirely sure who I am anymore, and that’s a bit scary. I need God to tell me who I am — to encourage me to reclaim some aspects of my life that have fallen to the wayside, and to mourn those things that need to go away. (Remember Lot’s wife…)

I walked along the beach today with my son. It was a cool, but sunny morning. We were all alone. And as I pushed London in his stroller and looked out over the eternal expanse of the ocean, I realized that overall, God is good. He’s blessed me with just the right people who can handle me, and more than that, He’s in control. It was a fleeting moment of childlike faith, but it’s a start.