It's hard to describe how I've been feeling lately, and I don't even know that I want to try. There's a lot happening in my life right now and a lot happening in head, but I've still found myself sitting quietly and wondering how or why. That probably doesn't make a lot of sense; let me just say that so much seems frivolous and petty, and I'm having trouble getting through it. As my professor said last night (in reference to a book by Volf, for those who are interested), "How is it that people are able to eat their young? What brings them to that point?" Obviously we're not talking about cannibalism here... and sadly we're not talking about a select few. Sometimes it just feels like things should be better, and people should be better, and I should be better at handling it.
Another piece of my past --
some quiet time [3/14/2003]
As I sit on the stairs outside the chapel I am surrounded by windows. I can hear the stairs protest as people walk the floors above me. Faintly I can hear the voice of Bethanee, raised up in song. I remember my irritation the first few times our chapel times collided.
My place. My time. My God.
But I got over it and learned to leave when she came in. It's almost a routine now -- she comes after class, sees my jacket, sighs heavily, and I put away my things noisily so she knows she'll be alone in a minute. We never make eye contact, we never smile or "how are you?", and we certainly never share without a grumble.
Welcome to contemporary Christianity. I'm sorry, did you want to know God? Well let me tell you about MY personal God...then you can find your own.
Outside the wind is violent and carries a drizzle. Trees taller than the four-story building I'm in wave to me in my warmth. The rain that fell all night is picked off the ground and thrown against the windows, startling me nearly every time. I feel like I'm in a car wash: trapped inside a machine and assaulted with the elements. Maybe I just feel trapped.
Yeah, it could be that.
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