January 27, 2005

My soul is torn, divided between my past, present, and future. I don't understand how it works, this dividing of my emotions, conflict of my mind. Part of me longs for what was. I miss being with my family, my greatest stress coming from who would speak to me at school. I miss my innocence, before I knew the people who hid behind their masks, before I knew what I had behind my mask. I long for my excitement for life, my fresh-faced exuberance that has been replaced by ulcers and worries.

Even as I look longingly over my shoulder at the past, I cling desperately to the present, trying to hold on to that which cannot be grasped. Even as I whine about the real world, I find an odd comfort in the monotony. On the first I pay my rent. Even Thursday is Bible study. Pay day is the 26th. My life is dictated by my planner, and I like it that way.

Until I think about the future, which I peek at through trembling fingers. To look at it fully would paralyze me, rooted in place like Lot's wife (who ironically enough was turning to the past." How can I long for the unknown when I long so for the known? How can those checklists that I love one moment pin me to the floor of this earth the next? I cry out for God to show me His will, to lead me, all the while hoping He will let me stay in this place I loudly hate.
How can I do it? Look over my shoulder. Cling to the present. Strain for the future. I wasn't made for this place. I swear it's my home but feel my soul bursting, longing for my real home. I don't understand how I can long for a place I've never been while fearing to part this place I hate.

I cry "Lord take me home...but not today." Because as much as my soul rebels against this place, my flesh and bone knows no other.

And therein lies the rub. My soul knows the truth, but it's buried in this rotting sin. It will triumph. It will overcome. When my flesh fades away and my soul finally breaks free, I will be one. I will be reconciled.

Lord, please hurry