Yet another "what am I doing with my life" days...

I ask myself this question often, "what am I doing with my life?" And I don't often have an answer. Every few weeks to every month or so I have a crisis of self, lamenting my current state of affairs and wonder madly if I am making the most of my life and resources, talents and abilities. And I'm not always sure of my answer. It just feels like there is always something "more." As if I'm only just missing that great epiphany which would illuminate all things hidden and uncertain. But, is that simply an ever-elusive, incessant thought that at its root is truly discontentment? Or is it a necessary fire lit to propel and compel me in a direction?

There seems a never-ending battle with discontentment in my life, good and bad. Discontentment isn't always negative, but the space between healthy and unhealthy discontentment is small and a precarious balance between sanity and insanity in my head. It seems when I feel I have "arrived" at what I believe is a healthy place and space something occurs to throw me off balance again. I think it's good to be kept on ones toes, regarding where we are and where we're going in life, but it can become exhausting to always be guessing at ones standing on the balance beam of life.

I think it's one thing to be asking oneself the hard questions and allowing them to provoke healthy introspection, which compels action, but than I think it's another matter to allow these questions to drive one mad and prevent any sort of peace or rest. Back to balance and that healthy place. I think one can live in that healthy place, still asking those hard questions, but remembering ultimately that you're not the one keeping your balance anyway.

Which sounds fabulous, but my question remains: "what am I doing with my life...?"

Can't skip breakfast

It doesn't matter when your day starts, you can't skip breakfast. Whether you rise at 5:30 a.m. or at 1:00 p.m breakfast signals the start of everyday. It's the cornerstone, dietarily speaking. If you skip it you will throw off the great cosmos of the universe. Or just cause you to suffer from hunger pains till lunch. Either way, breakfast is, in my opinion, essential to starting ones day right.


You begin with the coffee. Pick your favorite mug, this is very important, pour & add sugar or cream as desired. The coffee accompanies the rest. Eggs are a must, any style, but my current favorite is sunny side up on a piece of buttered toast smothered with pico de gallo. Delicious. Oh, and you always need fruit of some genre.

It's essential to savor each step. You can't rush these things. Sip your coffee while watching the eggs frying in the pan. Toast the toast. Butter toast. Flip eggs. Sip coffee. Repeat.

Once complete, sit and savor. Read the newspaper, Bible, or favorite blog. Or just sit & eat & be.

You may think this seemingly inconsequential meal is optional, but you're wrong my friends and I strongly encourage an exploration of the beauties that are a breakfast savored. Give it a go. You may never go back to cold cereal or God forbid no breakfast at all. *Shutters.

Faith

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." I say I have faith, but do I really? If this is the definition of faith, I fear I am severely lacking. Faith is a wonderful theoretical notion, but an extremely difficult concept to embody...

Though, I'm realizing more and more: faith is a gift. I cannot conjure it, foster it, or create it. It is given, gifted if you will. And I must choose it, or not. It is constantly offered, but how often do I take it? Too infrequently. It says in Ephesians, "In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one." It is the only piece of armor said to actually deflect the enemy's attacks. Why would I not choose it daily? Pride? Fear? Both & more.

So much keeps us from trusting our Lord.

Ourselves.

He has given us every reason to believe Him, yet we continue to find every excuse to disbelieve Him. Amazing. He proves Himself ore and ore, yet ore and ore we deny His sufficiency. How?

The enemy speaks the same lies to us as were spoken in the garden: "Did God really say...?" "Did God actually promise...?" Except now he just masquerades them differently, dresses them up to appear and appeal to our current culture and mindset. But, they're the same lies. They are all calling His trustworthiness into question. Calling Him into question. And we listen.

But, He is the same yesterday, today, and forever! He never changes. He IS trustworthy. Why then do I struggle to believe Him when He speaks? Because I am weak and frail. Human.

"Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, and the conviction of things not seen." Faith is believing even when the serpent whispers, "but did He really say...?" and saying back boldly, "yes, He did." It's choosing to stand firm despite all else telling you to doubt. It's believing Him when He says,"I shall never leave you and I shall never forsake you." It's believing Him.

That's faith.

Purpose

I think I'm beginning to gain a greater sense of purpose in my life; it's been some time in coming and it's still coming. I'm by no means arrived, but I'm at least progressing. I've been greatly struggling with this concept as of late: What is my purpose in life? It seems like quite a daunting concept to determine and pursue ones "purpose in life." Doesn't it? It feels extremely narrow and as if we have one shot at hitting this "purpose" and if we miss it, we're screwed. But, what if we actually do miss it? Well, then I suppose the rest of life is pointless, at least according to this narrow philosophy. I cannot accept it. Although, it has far too long ruled my thinking about life. No longer.

This is my purpose. Here. Now. What I'm doing right now is my purpose. He is my purpose. People are my purpose. What and who He has in front of me is exactly what I'm suppose to be doing at the present time; that is my purpose. And what I will choose next will be my purpose then. I'm starting to feel freer in my head as I ponder these realities. And also that, I can't really screw up my life; I'm just not that big in the grand scheme of things. And it's rather arrogant to think otherwise. A friend encouraged me recently that we ought to simply step out in faith--regarding our purpose--rather than waiting on a push from God that may never come. That is faith. Trusting & believing that if God is good and our deepest desire is to pursue His will than He is big enough to care for even our smallest decisions. When He is our purpose than little else matters. Blessed relief.

Somewhere in between

I find myself in an interesting space. It feels a bit like no-mans-land, to borrow a cliché. I'm not sure where I am or quite where I'm going. I lack vision & thus lack direction. I'm not aiming at anything, or going after anything. "Without a vision the people perish," as my mother always says; she's right. Without something to shoot for, what's the point?

I'm not entirely sure, but I'm trying to figure it out. Up to college graduation there was "a plan," but then came the abyss, the abyss of "post-college life." No one warns you about the abyss, it just appears before you, a black, gapping hole, ready to swallow all poor, unprepared college graduates whole. It hasn't quite swallowed me yet, but it's come pretty close...

I know many of my peers are also experiencing this same phenomenon, the "not knowing what to do with your life" phenomenon. I suppose it's not really a phenomenon, but rather an inevitable reality. However, the question remains, "what am I doing with my life?" Still no idea. And it's been two years. I feel like I should know, but I don't.

I desperately desire direction, momentum, forward motion of some kind, yet I'm not sure where to begin. Isn't that always the problem? Where to begin. It's like writer's block and the blank page. Always hardest just to start. I wonder, if I actually get going somewhere, will I like it when I get there? And does it matter? Is it just as important to simply have direction as to have the right direction? I'm such an idealist. Who knows if there is a "right" direction. I mean I think we're all made for specific things and purposes, yet I think it's so much less what do we as how we do it. Goodness, just over-flowing with the clichés today aren't we.

Altogether, I suppose if I spend too long trying to figure out where I'm going I may never actually go anywhere. I might just stay, staring at the blank page for the rest of my life and never write a darn thing. Perhaps I could start with a little old fashioned brainstorming...

Control...or lack thereof

I think everyone wants control of their lives; I know I do. It seems more maddening, however, to realize I can't control other people's lives, which I suppose is really the same thing as wanting to control ones own life. My students for example: I can do nothing to alter their desires, their actions or behaviors, their outcomes--nothing. Unbelievably frustrating reality. When I see potentials, but than see them fail to reach those potentials I feel defeated. Why? I'm not entirely sure. I think it has something to do with me putting myself into their efforts, and feeling like I am thus ineffective when they do not perform as hoped. Ridiculous? Maybe.

Control is an interesting thing. In reality it evades those who seek it, but this evading causes people to chase it all the more. When we want to control something and don't have it our desire for control of that thing increases, tightening like a noose around an imaginary hold...because control is just that: imaginary.

Yet, I still want it. Control. Or at least a semblance of it. Contradictory? Definitely. It's just incredibly difficult to relinquish control of a thing you greatly want. But, I'm realizing the more you hold onto a thing, the less you have it...

Avoiding the inevitable

I avoid things like the plague, even if they are as simple as brushing my teeth...alright, maybe not that, but I avoid many things, as if they were the death of me. It's like a sick mental block. And the saddest part is that the thing in front of me may not actually be very hard or complicated, but I make it so by putting it off and putting it off, again and again. And with the mounting avoidance comes the inevitable growth of the mental block in my head. Then after so long whatever the thing is becomes so huge and pressing because, small though it might have been originally, has now become a colossal mound, now absolutely necessitated by my avoidance. Why do I do this to myself? It's madness. Sigh. Fine, I guess I'll go brush my teeth...