Why does it take so much pain and brokenness before we accept Jesus? Is that “human”? I know some people who seem to have always lived with the knowledge of Jesus in them. I envy the ease of their life. It seems easy from my point of view anyway. I don’t really envy. I just sometimes wish I had known what they know earlier in my life. I suppose the truth is, I could have. I just wasn’t ready to hear it. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t trust the people who were telling me these things because I learned early in life what a hypocrite was. This is sad because my distrust turned me away from God as well as people. That is not fair to Jesus. The good part is that I eventually turned around. I still get lost here and there, but for the most part I have found the path and I try my best to stick to it. Amen.
When I was little I wanted very badly to have a collection. I wanted something neat to bring in to Show and Tell. I tried rocks, but all I could gather were the rocks in my backyard. I tried buttons…but I only found about three loose in my house. I thought about toys, but I shared everything with my sister. Eventually I gave up. I suppose the closest I ever got to a collection was my stock pile of stuffed animals. The thing is; sometimes I still wish I had a collection of something. I’m just older now to realize that I don’t collect anything. I think it’s a waste of space. I don’t want a bunch of weird nicknacks floating around gathering dust. Truthfully, I have a bunch of pictures and a few mementos I have kept from certain times in my life, and except the pictures they all (for now) fit in a glass vase. Which is really what a collection is about anyway. Taking time to gather these things that you feel are special. Things you feel are worth having around. That concept eluded me for a long time. I wanted to have a whole collection at once. Like buy fifty marbles and say, “This is my collection!” I would have had junk. Because not one of those marbles would have meant something to me. Sometimes I feel that there might be something wrong with me because I don’t put sentiment into items. I know plenty of people who have a collection of stuff that they will NOT let you throw out because it means the world to them. I, on the other hand, could walk out of my house with a handful of items and not miss a thing left behind. Lately I have been coming to terms with that, and realizing that there really is nothing wrong with me. In some ways I feel I am better off sometimes. If my place goes up in flames I won’t be devastated, just a little put off that my computer and tv (which cost a decent bit of cash) are gone. I am imagining a best case scenario where my dog is safely at another house. He is not an item, he is my friend.
So, I do have a small collection of things, but nothing I put my world into. My world is the world. My true collection is in my brain. The people I love, the memories I have. That is my true collection.
I don’t think that Bf and I are directly opposite. At one time we could have been labeled the exact same. He reminds me of myself from a couple of years ago. Just the particular-ness he possesses. Being around Ex taught me to loosen up. Maybe I will be that for Bf. I believe most of it comes from living alone. On my end it came from living with chaos and needing something to control. His might be a little healthier. Honestly though, I don’t think I could even recognize my direct opposite. (Leaving out my mother) I’m fairly amiable. I have met some very disagreeable people, but I still smile and just react pleasantly until they are gone. Public service jobs will do that to you.
Does she spread rumors maliciously or does she spread rumors because she lacks the awareness to know when she is being told something confidential? What is a rumor anyway? What if what he says is the truth? Is that still a rumor? When do you cross the threshold of rumor from polite conversation? (Probably when you have to lower your voice) Is everything we read or see on the news (technically) a rumor? I used to be jealous of people in high school that had rumors about them.. It meant that someone cared enough to talk about them. Some of the kids knew my name but I never made any sort of impact. I was far too passive. I suppose you would say that it’s a good thing i didn’t have rumors about me. I say it’s a bad thing. It means I did nothing. Which, honestly, is what I did. Nothing. I talked to no one. I read books. I had a total of three friends. When I moved away and came back, I had one. I see people from high school out in the world, and thy don’t recognize me. Because I made zero impact on their lives. My goal is to start better this time. The people I work with will remember me after I am gone. I will make impact and I will be talked about, Otherwise I feel like I am just wasting time.
I had a neighbor who was black. He wanted to “marry” me when I turned 18. His best line was, “If you see some teeth floating around outside, don’t worry. It’s just me.” He liked Prince. He liked my mom. He was friends with my mom.
When I was little I had a few neighbors and they were my friends. One of them cut her foot on some glass and had to be carried by her brother to the car with blood dripping everywhere (still not squeamish). One of them found a teeny tiny baby turtle and wouldn’t let me hold it (it wasn’t like I was going to take it).
Sometimes my neighbors were my friends, sometimes they were friend’s of my siblings. As I got older I lost interest in really knowing my neighbors. I didn’t want to get caught up in their business. For instance, I am pretty sure my immediate neighbors deal weed. The ones above me smoke weed. One of the top neighbors has a baby. The tippy top neighbors have two dogs, and the ones beside them…….I have suspicions about them……they act shady. I only know the name of my immediate neighbors. I have their name and number. Just in case. However, we don’t hang out and we don’t chat. Somme of it is opportunity, but most of it is me. I just don’t want to care. Which is very unchristian like. I don’t want to care about them. Let me love them from afar…you know….without actually knowing them….so it’s a kind of theoretical love. I love the idea of them.
Pretty sure that isn’t what Jesus had in mind though. He wants the kind of love that gets your hands dirty. Where you’re knee deep in the muck. Not so much that you feel the need to carry, because that is his job,but so much where you can give sound advice and actually think of that person regularly. This sounds impossible to me because I am pretty sure I have a numerical limit for people I can actually want to care about. That might just be laziness though. I can be lazy. Or I am just afraid. But I think it’s laziness. Because if I care about people, then I actually have to CARE about them. Like give them time,share myself with them, and maybe even give them material things… The last one is not a big deal….I give away stuff all the time. Mostly it’s the emotional input/output that gets me. It’s exhausting. Even for the people I like, I find it difficult to share so much. That may be part of a bigger problem. Damn neighbors…..
I have no clue what to do with my life. I’ve been on the internet for three days now looking for some hint. I’ve taken personality test after personality test. I’ve taken “What Career Best Fits You” kind of tests over and over. Nothing seems interesting. Nothing ever seems to fit me. I like work with my hands. I’m a fast learner. I enjoy making others happy. I have an above decent education, yet I still have no idea what to do with my life. I’ve been working at a restaurant for a good four years now and although I have bad days it’s been smooth sailing and I make decent money. I’m pretty, I like to smile, and I carry conversations well. For some reason I have just enough knowledge of wine and whiskey to make the “high rollers” appreciate me, but also just enough of a lack so they can teach me something. (The trick is to impress not show off) When I come home, I exercise my dog and then hit a joint. I don’t obliterate myself, I just like to take the edge off and alcohol makes me sick. Over l I would say I am well rounded and intelligent. Which might be my downfall. Perhaps if I was opinionated and single minded I would know exactly what to do with myself. Instead I know a little bit of everything but nothing on one solid subject. If waitressing fulfilled me, maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with it. However, I feel like I am lying to everyone myself included. I wish I could get paid to read. Or join a book club that paid. Like seventh grade English/Reading.