Monday, April 5, 2010


It has been awhile since I have written here, but I once again feel called back. I guess that is why I have never truly closed off this part of my life. Lately I have been feeling such separation from the divine presence that I don’t feel qualified to write about it anymore. Even then, I am going to try and write a few things that are on my heart in the hopes they do some good. That has been the point since I started this blog anyway.

It seems like there are so many conflicting thoughts running through my head every day. I know of the promises that God has made for us, but as each day speeds by and blends in with the last I have lost sight of them. Yes, I know what we are promised in my head, but I no longer feel it in my heart. In place of that, I feel as if certain aspects of my personality have been turned off. In those areas I feel nothing. There is no emotion, no conflict, no love, only numbness. It is frightening and saddening all at the same time.

Since I last wrote here I accepted a job that was supposed to be permanent, but ended after three weeks because they said I violated their asinine IT policy. That was nine weeks ago. I thought I would enjoy the time I had to refocus myself. Instead, I have seen only loneliness increase each day. I feel exiled from humanity, and it is an exile that will grow worse each day. This doesn’t include my pervasive thoughts of growing old and my own death. Lately, I have been terrified of becoming an old man, but honestly the alternative hasn’t sounded much better.
It is tough living a life of numbness. I think that is why I have come back here even though my ramblings don’t make a lot of sense sometimes. I come here because of this:

20Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet's own interpretation. 21For prophecy never had its origin in the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit. – 2 Peter 1:20-21

I am not pretending to be a prophet. I am simply trying to write in the hopes that one good thing can be culled from my writing and make a difference. I am writing so I can feel alive again. I am tired of walking around in the husk of a man, seeking meaning every second of life and feeling like time spent away from the pressures of the world is wasted time. It’s funny. I live under constant stress like I have to make every second of life count for some grand scheme, but I honestly have no direction to go in life. I think I get maybe an hour of peace every week where my spirit feels sated. I apologize for rambling like this, but I am only seeking answers.

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