
You should know, while I write this I've got background music--"I Love to Laugh" from the original movie soundtrack Mary Poppins...
Does that make me slightly dorky?
Yes. Yes, it does.
But I'm okay with that. It's not news to me. And it is one of my favorite parts of this movie. *smile* Anyway, it's only 2 minutes long so...it's over now...moving on.
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I thought I might say something profound, but I think my mind is too tired. I think a lot of me is tired. And as much of a right that I think I may actually have to be tired, it worries me. I don't want to be the kind of person that gets burnt out easy--or bored. Lindsey told me the other day that she thinks I'm one of the most devoted people she knows. I thanked her and still somehow doubted that it is actually true.
Devoted? Really?
Cause I don't feel devoted. And maybe that's something I should explore--yet another reason for exhausting self-analysis. If it's really devotion and not just fear of not finishing something I've started, I'd like to know. Guess that gives me something to look for this week...
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I can't believe it's October. Mid-October. I mean, Comps are rapidly approaching and somehow I'm terrified about how not terrified I am. And yes, I'm aware of the irony in that last statement. I think I'm just past the point of aching for validation from this place. I want to matter--I want to be somebody that people are proud to have known and been a part of. But at the end of the day, when the rubber meets the road, I want to be the best version of myself more. I want to know and understand what exactly it is I was hand-made to do and be... And the more I study what theological point goes under the category of which doctrine for which file to be buried in what box in whose office---I don't know.
It all just misses somthing...
Wonder. There's just no wonder anymore.
There's reason. Lots and lots of rationale to be passed around like turkey at Thanksgiving. And believe you me, I've seen all the knowledge-gluttons I can take for a long while.
It makes me tired.
Still, I can't decide if that's my right. I don't know anything at all. It's true what they say...the older you get, the stupider you are.
I'm grateful. I'm grateful to have been taught by some of the most brilliant minds in this country--not only brilliant minds but brilliant minds who use their faith as such a part of their work...
Of course I say that and part of me shakes my head--I'm not sure I really believe it.
I'm not sure that I don't believe that the
Truth isn't supposed to make us sound a little nuts.
I've studied the religious history of this country and I personally find that our ultimate downfall could very well be our attempt to make something reasonable that simply won't fit itself into the rational parts of our brains. You can slice your head open and gracefully
shove as much information as you want. You can leave out all the supernatural stuff that doesn't work...
Truth just doesn't exist for that part...it doesn't exist for our mathematical organization. I mean, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm miserably and irreversably naive... but if I know the
Truth like I feel in my guts that I do, then the
Truth was made to be known and experienced in my imagination.
THAT is the Truth that changes me.Known relationally...and
experienced... not discussed.

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So tonight I was going through this box of old jewelry that I hadn't actually paid any attention to since I moved in...and I found my tiny little notebook from college... my "Happy Book."
It was funny to look through all of those things I'd listed...over 250 of them. I remember when I stopped carrying it around. It was the most subtle thing and had I not run across the notebook it would have never occurred to me. All these times that I get frustrated and homesick and lonely, I remember how grateful I am to be learning these things about myself that I just would have never seen otherwise. I remember Beth Moore saying something about a dog that she had that was crippled and always limped. And when the dog had puppies, even though the puppies were completely healthy, they limped...because that's what their mother did. The example they had of learning how to walk was broken. So they walked...broken.
I don't want to do that. I'm determined to fix my limp before anybody...anybody follows me.
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Well, there I am.
And I should be asleep.
Tomorrow, I'm on a joy hunt.
I'll report back with my findings.
“If Jesus gives us a task or assigns us to a difficult season, every ounce of
our experience is meant for our instruction and completion if only we'll let Him
finish the work. I fear, however, that we are so attention-deficit that we
settle for bearable when beauty is just around the corner."
-Beth Moore