In less than one hour, I will turn twenty-one years old. Though I have looked forward to this passing for many years, as I sit here typing to you, I am scared shitless.
Okay, that was a dramatic statement. Perhaps not scared shitless, but part of me feels like I am on the edge of a precipice; I am aware of my potential--and necessity--to do something big. The only question is, will this big thing be for my betterment or for my demise? At this moment I am aware that I am no longer capable of living a neutral life. I am on either the extreme of surrendering myself to God or enslaving myself to my selfish desires.
I've talked a lot in the last year about growing up and not being a child anymore. Talk, talk, talk. I'm a big talker. Now is the time to be a doer. Perhaps this is where my initial statement of fear stems from. I'm afraid of... not satisfying every teensy desire that crosses my mind, not living for myself, thinking things out a lot more than I'd like to... doing the hard work. I suppose this exposes what an easily distracted, small, remiss person I am. It's time to rise above that.
No, I can't do it on my own. Lord, fill me with your Spirit, make me steadfast, and may I learn to love your Word.
This will be my first birthday spent away from my family. Yes, I'm going home this weekend, but this is the first February 18 that I will not be in the loving arms of my mother, father, and siblings. It's not that I feel alone, I just suddenly realize that this life is mine. I moved to Portland to be my own independent person, and here I have it. I finally got what I wanted. Separation from my family. I am left with a slightly raw feeling in my heart which causes me to examine what I am living for now that I can no longer live for my family. The lens through which I now view the world is not dictated by Mom, Dad, my brothers, or my sisters. I still love them, yes. Perhaps too much--a sin of idolatry I have been guilty of for years. I feel the Lord is now finally pulling that from me, allowing me to live a life completely my own... and yet, a life not meant for me.
And here I stand on this precipice. This is the life of Caroline. What does it stand for? What does it witness? Will it crumble, as a weak wall on a fault, or will it thrive, infecting the very air it touches?
4 comments:
Yo sister! Happy Birthday! Way to take a plunge into the deep unknown! I am pumped that you are back here! I look forward to seeing where our Father takes you in this upcoming transition!
Are you left-handed?
Hi, you don't know me, but I believe, if you are the same Caroline the comments on Brandon's website then we may have once or twice engaged in discussion.
Anyway, I noticed that you compared your love of your parents to idolatry as you are, no doubt, puting them before God by following their advice and by, i believe you said "loving [them] too much".
When I was 4 my father told me it was good that I loved him but that I had to love God more. This troubled me until about 4 or 5 months ago when I had what I consider an epiphany.
If love is from God as God is love, and if what Paul says is true and love is the greatest of all things and then if we can logically conclude that love being both God and the greatest of all things must also be the source (because what comes after the source is always less then the source) then I believe we can put such silly phrases as "love more" "love less" to rest.
Love is a reality and as such a continuum. To love is to love, love doesn't change, only our understanding of it. No one can love a person more than God, if God is the source of love, is Love, how can any act of love be separate from God, be anything but a willful interaction with God Him/her/itself? Well, obviously it can't.
And to me, this is a very comforting thought. I hope it is the same for you.
Oh and happy birthday, although it's late.
It's funny, isn't it? How we talk our whole lives about growing up and then it hits us in the face. Sometimes I wish it was a little nicer. I enjoyed your thoughts on turning 21. Probably because they were similar to mine, at least the growing up part. Miss you friend.
Post a Comment