Nine. That's how many posts I've drafted and not shared in the recent past. Mostly because they are incomplete...I can't even promise I'll get around to posting this one.
I've been lost lately. That's been the main theme of the posts that weren't posted. I'm lost and have no idea who I am or what I am or where I'm going. I've been in a valley a lot longer than I've cared to allow myself to realize. Mostly because it looks so drastically different from the last valley I walked in, I hardly can bring myself to admit that even with a life as blessed and "unbroken" as I have *right* now... it's still a valley. I suppose I imagined that all valleys must have a steep incline going into them, a complete cloud cover of darkness, slimy mud at the bottom, the worst torments on all sides, and a greater incline coming out.
That is not my valley now. My valley, though dark and hazy, was not steep nor was it too deep to see any light at all. Perhaps it's been an uphill battle and that is why I didn't notice a valley. An uphill battle with more burdens and weight than I ever had the strength to carry in the first place. And now, as things begin to close, I realize I've become entirely weakened by everything and am in want for motivation to go much further.
"You failed, " is what most often plays through my head. Though, I know the voice of my savior and those words are not His. I can't help but think there is some inkling of truth to this lie. I've never been one to consider quitting ministry. Ministry is my whole heart and passion and all I ever want to do with my life. However, I can't help but think I'm not cut out for it any more. Maybe at one point, I had some sort of gift in leadership, maybe.. but I think maybe I lost it? Or dropped it. Or failed to foster growth in it and it died? Perhaps this is why I feel most lost.... because the most of my identity has been wrapped in leadership and ministry for so many years and now I feel unsuited for it. I just don't know who I am.
I don't know where I'm going. Part of me doesn't want to know. Most of me doesn't. I've dreamed of my future before and the broken glass pieces of those shattered dreams are more damaging than the joy that brought them to existence. But that makes me lost, too, because I have no structure or guidance or goals to move me forward. I don't know what I'll do if not ministry. But perhaps it is that I just need to be refueled, refilled, replenished before taking up that cross once more. I'd hate to think that now is when I bury it forever. But then again, if it's not my gift any more, than maybe I'm in the wrong for not letting it go.
I just don't know.
Someone asked me how my life was yesterday. All I could do was repeat "I don't know" over and over. Because I don't. I mean, in my mind it's good. It's great. It's more ideal than I could ever imagine. But in my heart, all I can think is that I'm not okay any more. There is something wrong, something off, something broken, something empty, something missing, something something something causing me to feel like life is way too overrated. Not in a suicidal way, of course, but I just feel... over it. I don't know.
I'm too much of a people pleaser too. I've known this a while. But, I mean, I can't win. I can't, and I'm accepting defeat. Here's my white flag, guys, and my pink slip too while I'm at it.
One time, I made a cake and it was supposed to be tall and stacked. But it was really moist and when I put the frosting on it, the frosting collecting crumbs and chunks of the cake and rather than having a nicely stacked and smoothly frosted cake, I had a mass of chunky icing on a cake so heavy that it began to fall over and crumble apart. I reached out my hand to save the cake and supported it with my hand, keeping it from falling whilst trying to come up with a plan for its salvation. It *looked* like the shape of cake I wanted with my hands there, but I knew that as soon as I took my hands away, the cake was going to fall splat on the counter. I thought and debated and tried to figure out a way to support it and get it to stay without my hands.... there was no way. My hands removed, the cake surely did fall splat.
That's how I feel like my area of ministry has been this semester. With my hands holding together a messy crumbling structure that never had much hope of standing in the first place. I've decided to take my hands away and step away kinda sorta. I feel cruel, like I'm abandoning my sinking ship before it has totally sunk. You know, you feel guilty getting out alive when maybe there was ONE LAST Thing that could have been done before you took to the life boat.
At the same time, there is no denying that it seems to have been something of a bottle rocket that whistled at take off but never made the popping sound at the end. A dud, I guess. But it was my responsibility. It was my duty and assignment. It was what was asked of me and I came up short.
It goes to show that I am way too proud. Way to confident in my competence even. And I know that it wasn't a fail altogether, because I have learned and have been stretched and will eventually grow into what the Lord has desired to strengthen in me. But I'm sorry for those that had to live through my learning. Because I will not have been able to minister to them in the way I will have learned to minister because of them. I'm sorry I was not competent when they needed me to be. I'm sorry that they were the trial and error in that area of my faith. I know *I* benefited from it, but I can't help but feel guilty because they were left high and dry as a result.
Home for Thanksgiving was too good. It's like a break from reality. I always lose my phone on the first day and have no need for it until I pack up and leave because there isn't actually anyone who'd wish to contact me via phone that wasn't already present (Apart from a roommate, maybe). No stress for having to be anywhere, please anyone, or even witness to anyone. I mean, of course you should be Jesus to your family, but I at least have the blessing of not having to feel like I need to be the perfect Christ-model when I'm home because my family knows all my crap anyways and they'll call me out on it faster than anyone else I know.
Just accepted for no reason. I like that. The real world isn't like home. Once you make up who you are, you have to keep being you in your unique little way so that people will want to keep you. If you have a unique sort of gift or quirk or mannerism, you have to emphasize it and own it and hone in on it for the sake of individuality. At home we're all naturally different so we don't have to exhaust ourselves trying to be different. Not that people are all fake, their unique difference are just over-emphasized while we air brush everything else. Or maybe I'm the only one else that does that. I don't think I am, but I'm not above owning it, even if it is just me.
So what next? I hardly know. I'm still holding out on deciding one way or another. I wasn't planning to walk away from ministry just yet. I have one or two more matches to strike before the fire is completely snuffed out. I need people, basically. I need people who love Jesus to tell me how to love Jesus better. I'm obviously not figuring it out on my own very well. I need Jesus too. Really really really badly I do. I need the real Jesus. One with Truth along with grace who will give my life some structure and direction and can make it stand up when it brinks collapsing.
I need to know who I am.
“We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and private: and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship.”
― C.S. Lewis
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