I’ve got doors and windows boarded up; all your dead end fury is not enough.

 

I didn’t really prepare for college much-- emotionally.  I figured it’d be tough and all that… but I didn’t anticipate this, in all honesty.  When I left for college, I was comfortable with where I was at.  Problem number 1.

I hold firmly to the belief that our Father is never done teaching us things.  Never, at any one point in time, have I truly believed that I was finished learning.  The minute I pretend that I don’t have anything left to learn is the same minute I’m de-glorifying the power of God.  Sometimes it feels like I’m just saying that, though.  I can’t help but think that if I really believed that, it should be easier to keep my heart open to the things He’s trying to show me, mold it into a teachable device. 

I guess on some accounts I have kept it open; this blog is here after all. 

College is hard though, guys.  I wasn’t prepared to be so lost when I got here.  When everything is entirely overwhelming and you start seeing things in yourself you didn’t think existed, all you want is to hold on to something a little familiar.  You want to find a ground that you can stand on with both feet, feel confident in anything that you’re doing.  I haven’t had a moment like that yet. Nothing about this place is familiar; nowhere feels like a place I really belong.  And all I’ve done since I’ve gotten here is forced things that are completely unfamiliar into a person I recognize less and less.  A person I know cannot be me, a person I definitely don’t want to spend the rest of my time here becoming.  It is completely confusing to hold these thoughts at the same time that I’m forcing all that unfamiliarity in. 

I’ve always been so arrogant, and stubborn; I never want to admit when I can’t do something on my own.  I always liked to convince myself that I could fix my own heart; I could change it for myself.  I can’t.

But that stubbornness is also what keeps me here.  In this place.  I’m not moving.  I will not be moved from my faith in a God that is bigger than all of it.  I refuse to believe that anything I’ve done has made Him any less of what He is.  I refuse to give into a lie the world is trying to sell to me at such a cheap price that it could ever replace what He’s done to my heart, what He’s done to my life; I could never deny that He gave me life.  Even when I don’t know how to talk to Him; even when I find that the hardest thing to do is stand before Him. 

I am afraid I’ve lost sight of who I am to Him.  I am afraid sometimes that He couldn’t possibly recognize me now, when I don’t recognize myself.  I fear He should be about ready to give up on me; I would be.  But some tell me He’s too good to let me go.  I want to believe that, because in my heart, I am fully aware He’s everything I’m not.  He is so much more than I need to be. 

This song (Wedding Dress by Derek Webb) breaks my heart a little every time I listen to it, because I know I’m breaking His:

If You could love me as a wife
and for my wedding gift: Your life
Should that be all I’d ever need
or is there more I’m looking for?

and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what You want?

I am a whore, I do confess
But I put You on just like a wedding dress
and I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
I’m a prodigal with no way home
but I put You on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle to You

So could You love this bastard child
Though I don’t trust You to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in Your side

I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over Your very flesh and blood

Because money cannot buy
a husband’s jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife.

I am a whore, I do confess
But I put You on just like a wedding dress
and I run down the aisle,
I run down the aisle
I’m a prodigal with no way home
but I put You on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle to You

I talked to a few good friends today, friends from home.   It was a relief to have that reminder that there are people who still see me, when I can’t see a thing.  I was really missing the things that were able to remind me I have a higher potential, that has nothing to do with what I can do at all—His name is Jesus.  It was like that familiarity was enough to show me this fight- that is so exhausting, so wearing- is still worth it.  Because He’s still fighting for me.