Meaningless?

          Life, in general, is quite meaningless. Have you ever noticed that? That thought plagued me all through junior high, and into a year of high school. I spent those years planning my present and future. I would amount to something, anything. I just wanted to have a meaning. I just couldn’t accept a future where I had a pointless job, or stayed home, taking care of children. I had to be something bigger, more important than most.

          The word teenager originated in 1941. Did you know that? That was the first time it was used. Before that there were children and adults. While still children, they could also be called youths. The youth were children striving to be adults. Teenagers have taken the place of youths. Have you noticed? Teenagers tend to not do much, nor are they expected to do much. When one looks at the words, I was never a teenager; I was a youth. Sadly, I was stuck in the body of a teenager, therefore limiting my options to that of a teenager. My life was much more meaningless than life should have been. Oh, how miserable I became! I would lay down a plan, and then start with the end result. (Have you ever, especially when stuck on a maze, started with the end point? It’s easier much of the time.) I would work my way back to the start, and the go from the start to the end. However, when it came to actually doing anything, step one usually included my being an adult. It made no matter whether I had the initiative, education, or anything! Step one always required I be an adult. It’s an infuriating world the few youths of today live in! While I was taking a rather awkward survey about marriage, I was told the older the person I ask, the more answers I would get. How silly I was to think that an eighteen-year-old would have any input on marriage. (I knew the answers when I was twelve, and probably younger. They have never changed.) How presumptuous I was!

          Teenagers and kidults (adults who act like children or teenagers) have made my world quite meaningless. The truth is that when you want meaning, you can make meaning. I was just heading in the wrong direction. My reasoning and incentive was all correct, but what I thought would really give my life meaning was a bit askew. I still have problems finding a way to make my life meaningful, even when I live for God! I always am living for God. Still, I feel that I am doing nothing. I am moving forward, slower than a snail. My parents never seemed to understand that, and they still don’t. They grew up as teenagers. My sister is a teenager. But I was never a teenager, nor do I ever plan on tapping into that area of thinking. My mom still asks me if I am sad that I missed out on high school, as I was homeschooled. “No,” I always say. Now that I’m in college, I know more than ever that I did not miss out on anything. I’m not into the social drama, the sporting events (even if I do love soccer), the dances, or the heaping piles of homework (I hear college is easier). It’s not meaningful to me.

          Probably about the time I completely read through Do Hard Things by Brett and Alex Harris I decided that life is pretty much meaningless, but I could make myself meaningful. Alas, it takes hard work, but it is attainable! Hopefully, college is helping me on the journey because it’s taking up so much of my time. But wherever I’m headed, I’m going to make it meaningful. After all, a person’s a person no matter how small, and ordinary people are what shape society. Although, ordinary isn’t quite what I am…

          “So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.” - Morrie Schwartz

Preparing for the Unknown Battle

(01-19-11) I’m sickly and miserable. If I wasn’t trying to force myself to get better, I might pity myself. Yet, I’m not. (Okay, I totally do, but I’m only moping. Things could be a lot worse.) And I know why.

          My life would be so much simpler if I would just put myself first. No, I’m not being prideful. I’ve been sick, but I’ve forced myself to go to school (Both times, I ended up making Bebo pull over the car so I could jump out and try not to hurl. We hadn’t even made it to the highway). Tomorrow, I am going to do the same thing. Hopefully, I will make it through the day (Hopefully, I’ll make the drive to the school). Any normal time in my life, I wouldn’t have made it that far. Now I have a reason, and it’s not for me.

          I don’t have a clue about what I’m going to do with my life (Okay, I have some hints, but nothing absolute). I push through everything these days because I don’t think I’ve exactly filled God’s purpose for me yet. I guess I could have without knowing, which would be amazing. To know you’ve made some sort of impact… Still, I’m striving for an unknown. (01-20-11) It terrifies me to know that I may or may not be equipping myself for the future. The best I can do is to prepare for a battle and hope that whatever else I’m doing will be enough.

          “In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.” -Dwight D. Eisenhower

A New Way of Caring

I love church. I heard the message today, but I missed a lot of it. I would in any normal circumstance be disappointed with myself, but why I missed it makes up for my inattention.

At first it was a poem. As I watched the pastor give a few announcements, I was inspired. Have you ever listened to a pastor, and I mean really listened? Most of the ones I’ve ever heard have this thing in their voice, almost like they’re in an over exaggerated play. But there’s something in it where you just know that the enthusiasm, the way they speak as though God was really talking to them through the Scriptures… It’s usually real. Of course, I’ve heard from one or more that they’ve actually, in teaching their audience, been convincing themselves as well. They believe, but something’s missing that week, month, or year. That was the first bit of the poem, and there are four. It’s all about those amazing pastors whose faith is terribly strong, but they’re lacking their edge.

Part two was about the critics. It was about the skeptic who saw only the lacking edge in the pastor. The one person that there will always be who does not and will not ever connect, or at least in this poem of mine. Because they don’t understand, they create falsifications, and so on about the pastor and congregation.

Part three is about the one who can see it all. They see that the pastor, while great in faith, is missing a bit of luster. And that is just that.

Part four is still about the person who understands what’s really going on. They know the skeptic is bitter and etc…

I was thinking about adding a part five, from God’s point of view of His children. I think I will, but I’m not positive.

Now, don’t think this is what really stole up the time I should have been listening to the sermon. No.  It’s a hard thing to describe…

Before church started, I realized I should be praying each and every day for insight from God, such as a Bible verse’s meaning, or how I was to apply myself for him. This is when I realized that who I love being may not be what I need to be. I mean, I roll my eyes when those who are sinning horribly and only hurting themselves would rather to that than have a higher authority. But while I’ve always been open for God to change my life, I’ve never wanted to change major parts of me.

I’m quite proud with the fact that I’m near unreadable. I like that I’m not one of those people everyone flocks around. I know some of those people, and I happen to know they don’t really like it because they’re so likable, even when they’re obviously annoyed by a person, that person will never realize it. I might be cold, but it’s just how I function.

But what if God needs me to like people? What if I need to be friendly? I’m not sure that I could, but what if it’s a necessity?

After church, I saw someone looking at me. I’m pretty sure they were looking around, but it made me think. I know that person was either searching the room, or less likely, searching my face, but it made me wonder; am I as unreadable as I used to be, or am I like that person? I had to be before. I didn’t have any close friends, so not only did I need to have an unreadable expression to hide any sour emotions, but there was no reason for me to be expressive as it would be without people I really knew. But now, I have friends. I have real friends. They tell me I smile more. It’s their fault and I know it. They make me smile. They’re that amazing. But since I’m using non-faked emotions, does that make me more vulnerable to being read at a glance? Am I transparent to those who I am not close with? I certainly hope it’s not what God wants of me.

Just as a bitty bit of a side note, I know I’m not transparent to everyone, at the very least. My extended family is always asking if I feel alright or something like that. I’m usually happy… Kind of.

As I thought of that person who met my glance, I realized that while I don’t know them, and I’ve never cared to, even though they’re not annoying or anything, I cared. Of course, I’d care for people like them. I wouldn’t want them to come into harm. But this is different. I’d care because they’re a friend of sight. I don’t mean that I’d ever become friends with them in a normal world, because I wouldn’t. I just mean that they’re something around acquaintance. They’re the people I wouldn’t normally speak to, but I’m around enough for them to be a friend of sight. There’s something comforting about being in a room of people you know, if only by sight. Something’s changed in me already. I’m not sure I like it, because now I care more for more people. Before I could just shut anyone I pleased out…

Their short-lived gaze is still staring at me in my mind, reminding me that I care. My ice is melting. I almost cried when I realized. Now I’m vulnerable. Now I care not just for a community. I care for persons (as in individually).

          “The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” - Marcel Proust