Low on the Go!

thinking.

i lay in bed thinking last night, for awhile.
every once in awhile, i thought i could feel something crawling on me.
i didn't want to sleep.

so i lay thinking. i thought a lot about who i am.
and i've come to the conclusion that i am the most prideful person i know.

the reason why i'm struggling so much with these headaches, apartment living and bedbugs is not because they're hard things to deal with (although, they really are hard to deal with), but because i detest being weak. i feel as though i'm in this position where i'm pinned down, face to the mat, and i've lost control of the situation.

i don't like this position.

we, as humans, don't like this position.

there was a time when my friend Joel said something to the effect of, "i don't want to surrender my life and these things to God, because i know that if i surrender them, i won't be able to say that I accomplished them. i want to be able to say that i accomplished these things through my own merit."

i gave him the usual sunday school girl answer... you know, truth that flows out easily from the mouth. it IS truth, but it feels worthless when it's flippant.

but today, i realized that even though i haven't verbalized it..Joel felt what i'm feeling. i keep thinking to myself, i will struggle through this. i will press on. i want God to help me, but i don't..anyways, who needs a God who would let me struggle and pin me down on the mat, so that He can look like the big guy?

as i lay thinking though, and as i type this out, i realize that even without these "trials", without struggle in life, humanity will never be able to say that we accomplished things. rather, our lives are completely dependent on the God who is sovereign over all creation. Every breath we take rests on the fine thread which keeps us afloat, that is Jesus; though i may move my lungs to breathe, it is He who supplies the air.

you see, i realized, for the millionth time (and regular readers of this blog will realize this), that there will never be a time when i am not weak and utterly dependent on saving grace. even without a thorn in my flesh, the real thorn is that i am a part of humanity. frailty and weakness are inescapable.

excerpts from a previous blog. two years and twenty two days ago...
the fragility of life is something i am still not quite used to. i tiptoe around it; i am a foreigner in its strange land. Or perhaps it is a stranger in my foreign land. this past week, coping with the death of a friend, school, crusade and depression has left me weak. i wonder if i could play elusive to this life of living. Can i run away from this all? Where would i run to? i sometimes want trade spaces with a super-hero, oblivious to pain and suffering. The restless nights, the mornings when i wake up fatigued, despite a solid 7-8 hours are all a part of this week. The frustration i feel, the tiredness, the longing to do something, but my inability to do it leave me feeling as though i am a failure. My deteriorating marks, despite my bigger attempts to do things right this year have left me wanting for more.The humanness of my actions and nature tell me that i am no super-hero, but am destined to be a part of this life of catching up to the living. My humanness tells me that i am a part of this humanity. And though i would like to be oblivious to pain and suffering, what kind of humanity would that be? For i would be left incapable of love, empathy, desire and joy.

And why has failure become an anti-trophy in my life? something else that brings tears. Why do i let failure beat me down so? So much so, that i cannot move. i let it get in my way from pressing onwards towards to goal to win that prize for which i have been CALLED to GREATER things. since when is failure a mark of who i am? how successful i am? For i know that the successes of this world do not bring life, cannot bring happiness and cannot prevent death. They cannot rescue me from this miry pit; yet success has become so ingrained in me. i hold on for dear life, gasping, unwilling to let it go. it eats away at my soul, piece by piece until i can breathe no more, and when i'm finally down there, will it save me? NO! Who is this girl i have become? This girl that was once a fighter now lets the fight overwhelm her and leave her bruised and beaten. i have let this world overwhelm me. But i must let go for i am not a part of this world. when i pass away, what mark will i have left on the world? Will the world have left its mark on me? Or will i be that girl that people remember as living for something more? Living for life, a part of humanity and yet removed. Will i live for the moment, for the future, or let the past consume me so that i never reach the future? So the tears fall, and the rain pours, but the rain breathes new life into the dead on earth and causes ripples that leave everyone forever changed.


hmm..

seems like this giving up of self is a relentless, lifelong struggle. two years and twenty two days later, i'm still struggling with the same things...*sigh* why is it that while i keep wandering around the desert, experiencing this neverending circle of control and surrender, trust and obedience...others seem to have it down pat?