Dear Readers,
I want to come back to you. To talk to you and thank you and respond to you. I dropped off the wagon a long time ago, fishing for the wheels from afar, trying fruitlessly to pull myself back into the carriage. At one point, I just lay on the dusty ground and coughed from all the mites of sand whirring around my cracked, limp body. I felt deserted by my own mind, my own free will, which seemed like a hostage to Satan with his fiery chains and derisive laughter. I let myself fall into the dark pit of hands that passed me further down into the black hole – blind and uncaring and sleepy.
It was a horrible labyrinth of time.
But now I’m tired of being depressed and ready to move on to quirky, new life. I’m ready to share with you my thoughts and share with you my laughter and share with you my embarrassment. Because that’s what we do in the blogosphere, eh? We laugh at each other. And on occasion with each other. I came up with an interesting premise for a story idea today, and I’m excited to get started on it. I think this story is important because it will showcase how us ladies – newly adults, barely in our twenties, still figuring out the mystery of life – navigate the dark waters of womanhood and all the laughter, delusion, and PMS that comes with.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to even be alive, what it means to be human in this day and age, what it means to live for God now, and if I’m even close to doing it right. Probably not, right? It’s just hard for me to understand if I’m worshipping God right, because I have a particular way of doing it. An empty church to pray in is more appealing to me than a full congregation of singing, clapping people. A day on the lake in a wooden boat laying under the sun or writing in a journal under a tree or talking to God in my car driving home from work is more the way I like to worship. But worship sounds like such a strong word, I don’t even know if what I do would qualify as such. I believe that as long as you live for Jesus and do everything for Him, you’re doing it right, but sometimes I feel that even that is wrong. I must be doing it wrong, because I still feel unworthy or lesser.
But I guess that’s the trouble with being human. We’re never really good enough, because we make mistakes. We will always make mistakes. Even if you don’t believe in God, you will never do everything perfectly. And I guess that’s been the undercurrent of my troubles as of late. I’ve been letting that unworthiness hanker me down, push my head under the waves, guide me down a plank.
I’m sorry. I’m getting depressing again, aren’t I? Right. Well…
If it’s any consolation, I’m wearing this pretty navy blue and green floral shirt that has apparently been badly sewn, because the attached cami underneath the chiffon cover keeps sliding down revealing my bra. Haha – laughs. There. A lighter mood already, no?
Love ever after,
Lauren
