Life seems to be picking up the pace now.  I think I’m being in a state of “whelmed.”  Webster says that underwhelmed is: to fail to interest or astonish.  Being overwhelmed is:  to load, heap, treat, or address with an overpowering or excessive amount of anything.    To be plainly whelmed is:  to submerge; engulf.
I’m not sure where I am.  Things are pretty overpowering in an excessive amount, but I fail to be interested or astonished.
I’m not sure, though, if I am submerged, or engulfed.  I actually feel pretty distant.
I know that by saying this, people are probably going to offer me counseling.  Or try to have some sort of intervention about how “whatever” I am.  I’ve tried explaining it, but I don’t know how.
I’m not even sure if I am so worried about it.  There is actually only one thing that I am worried about, but I guess that’s where all of this comes from.
I have been wondering lately if it really matters what we do.  Well, it does, but I mean, does it matter, really?
Jesus died for me, I know that, and I want to have a deeper relationship with Him, but I don’t.    I keep saying that I want to know Him more, I want to worship Him more, all of that.  But I’m not.  It’s that simple.
I know that “fear has no place in me, and doubt is not from God…”  But I really can’t grasp the reality of how massive this all is.  We ask people all the time, “where would you go if Jesus came back right now, or you died right now?”  Right now, I don’t really know.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love God with my whole heart, but I’m letting all of these little disappointments stand in the way with the one man in my life that will never hurt me or abandon me.  There is a certain amount of intimacy that I have with Him, but lately it seems like that of an estranged lover.  When I’m not around Him, I long for Him, and when I’m in His presence, I pour myself at His feet.  But I long for Him often, even though He’s always there.   I am treating my relationship with God like I do with everyone else.  Once they get too close to knowing the real me, I push them away, or disapear.  I would much rather break my own heart than have someone else do it.  Somehow it’s easier. (?)

I don’t know where my life is going.  I don’t know what I am supposed to be doing.  I know that I should have these things in order by now, but honestly, I don’t.

Transparency = something I hate.

There is so much advise that I could offer someone in my place, but, quite frankly, I’m sick of hearing it.  I just want things to get back to normal, or something that resembles it.  I keep “suffering” through these stupid little situations I put myself through, wondering why I’m going through the same thing over and over again.

My passion is drying up, and my heart is breaking because I am fully aware of it.

Maybe I’ll become a nun.

Maybe I’ll run away… again.  Because we all know how well that works out.  I’ll come back even more busted up and my sponge will be dried, so I’ll fill it up, and wring it out.  At last, a solution.
I don’t really know what to say.

Making time stand still on a moving sidewalk… I’ve become a pro at it.


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