It was suffocating. That's what I most remember. Suffocating and inescapable. I stared at the chapel and thought, "My God. I actually have to go in there. I actually have to be with those people." And it took several deep breaths before I actually did it. Spurts of oxygen that actually had to be used to propel my feet to move. Convince my heart to action.

And as I walked in, the feeling was alleviated. It didn't go away. I wasn't immersed in friends. I was suddenly in a foreign place that felt...harmful. I can't describe it, but I just felt wrong. So there I sat, in mock prayer, hoping for the opportunity to turn invisible and run away from all of these hurt feelings. Hoping and wishing that God would make me different in a way that I didn't want to be.

And it spiraled downward from there. My hoping and wishing led to further hurt and suffering and finally I knew I had to leave. I had to get out of there. It was pertinent.

I came back, but I'm not going to forget that initial thought. The feeling of unwelcomeness I had before. It will reverberate with my soul for a long time.

Search me and know my heart, Oh God.

ENFP.

It's hysterical to think that four little letters have given me so much hope in the past few days. Nearly laughable that I have spent the majority of my time lately being consumed by it, seeing how it will propel me to grow. But what I've found as these four little letters have given me insight into myself I never had before.

The Myers-Briggs Personality test has been my saving grace. I was dubbed an ENFP, that's fantastic. Hurrah for me. But then I dove deeper. I looked into what that meant for me spiritually, what that meant for my relationships with other people, what sort of insight it may give me for who I am now.

And the good news is that I'm not alone. That I don't have to worry about being weird or different, because quite frankly, I'm exactly who I was supposed to be. This proves that. ENFP's are also labeled "the Inspirers." We inspire other people around us through our intense enthusiasm and huge connectedness to others. We can recognize traits in people and use them to make others grow. We are so constantly focused on other people, so consumed by that interaction, that we forget to focus on ourselves.

For me, church is a community environment. I love the interaction with people. I'm not so obsessed with the service as I am with the people. And prayer? It's uncomfortable for me, but that's okay! It usually is for people like me!

And who knew that when I just inherently figure something out that other people did it too? I'm not actually that bizarre! And there's even a process for that, too! YAY! I'm not strange! Or overly so!

I'm blessed with the gift that I'm not forgotten or wrong... that I'm actually right and the way I'm supposed to be. And man am I EVER excited to get to know myself all over again!!!!

Peace. Out.

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?

Biggest croc of bologna I've EVER heard. Isaiah wasn't all up and in the happiness about God calling him. It probably took him three days just to say "Here."

I don't know why I'm so angry about that. Why?! I think that I've probably been bottling some things in that I didn't know were being bottled... or that even existed.

And now I'm at the breaking point. It's like a bittersweet end.

Here I am. But who am I? Who am I to deliver myself as an instrument when really I have no idea in what capacity I could even perform?

I feel overwhelmed and exhausted. In my ultimate pursuit of God, I've lost sight of God. I've been seduced by power and by the needs of other people. I've forgotten about my own needs. I don't have a relationship with God. It's false and put on as a show for other people to feel inspired by.

How did I get this messed up? Was it a desire to show everyone that I could do it when really I know that I can't? Or have my real fears been recognized? Do I really believe in God?

I can read all the bibles in the world, listen to people speak about their really amazing faith, and even be inspired. I can catch on fire and burn despite the wind. But moments of their speaking or my reading aren't what lead me to God. Or at least how I see him. Moments when I've been most certain there's a God are moments when I'm most alone. So what does this mean for me? If I'm going to become a minister, I probably should believe in God. A lot.

Why am I doubting? What's the deeper root of this?

I took on all of these things just at a time when I had convinced myself that the journey was completely over for me. That I had completed this ship wreck moment, but I see now that I'm just fooling myself. That OTHER people know I'm just kidding myself. But they couldn't tell me because it was going to hinder my growth. I spend so much time doing things, doing stuff for other people, that I've forgotten to be human myself. And what do I do with that? Where do I go when I need to be consumed by something and I have no idea what it is?

Why am I crying when I'm supposed to be overly happy? Why am I upset if I know everything I need to know?

Why?

Here I am, Lord. Sitting on the edge, waiting for a sign. And the most desperate thought that comes to mind is that there may not be any sign at all.

Exhausting, yet Exhilarating. Desperate, but true.

I can't pin the desolateness yet. I can't foresee the future's end. I can't step back into yesterday nor leap into tomorrow. Instead, I feel contained, imprisoned by today's demands. It's forever dragging me downward into a horrible spiral of depressive happiness. False hope and fake enthusiasm is what I offer to the world.

We lead lives of quiet desperation. And yet, I scream in panic, cry out in fear. No one hears, or wants to hear, my call for help. They continue on with their lives and beg for a glimmer of hope in a shinyless world.

Do we dare tell them the truth of their existence? Shall we tear down all of their daydreams and bring to life their worst fears? Must we continue on in blind obedience without regard to our truest nature?

Onward and onward I feel like I'm spiraling, but to what I've not an idea. Passion that once invigorated my soul now exhausts me in its intensiveness. Loving all people was such an easy task and now its the very thing that causes me to crumble inside. Frantically waiting and endlessly praying do I sit in my valley of hopelessness.

Silence is nowhere, conversation everywhere I'd least like it to be. Always there are people and always there is a problem, but never shall it be eminating from me. I understand my call to be about others, to be obsessed with them my entire life's dedication, but my attempts at being completely available to all who need me leave me in a world of hurt and anger.

I'm not angry at those who request my help or to those who desire to seek the light. I am merely God's vehicle to this end shining his love as I've been ordered to do. I feel contempt for those that otherwise love me, yet don't take the time to make sure I'm okay. If my only existence is for other people, there's a humongous chance I may lose myself in that attempt. I'm functioning on empty in a world where full tanks are rare. And yet everytime I want to complain, I look around and see someone that's worse off than I. That's what keeps me going. How dare I complain when I'm surrounded by riches!

Despite my understanding for what I was made to be, I yearn for a time when someone can take care of me. To reach through the pain and the false bravery and to understand that I feel like a clanging cymbal in an orchestra. I feel out of place and sad and overwhelmed. And no one seems to recognize it. Or care.

I receive joy out of helping people, but even joy isn't enough to feed my soul anymore. I need something of substance, something rooted in truth. I'm sad, I'm miserable, I'm burnt out, and scared. And yet, I continue on through my solitary ways with a smile and no sign that my sanity is slipping away.

I don't know how much more I can take it. It's so much to contain. I don't think I can fake it anymore! I feel nearly insane!

OH MY GOSH. I am in SO much shock. My friend--best!--from Illinois just totally randomly called me and was like "Do you know who this is?"

RACHEL. Wow. Blast from the past. I haven't spoken with her for TWO years nearly to the date. Everything in her life has changed and it's sent me on this whirlwind journey tracing how drastically mine has.

And THEN she tells me that Joanna is married. And has a kid. Dear God! Life is totally changing in the world and I'm... just in shock.

I'm seriously past words right now. I've gotta go meditate. I just don't know how I can describe the elation more perfectly. Wow.

I should be studying... or cleaning my house. But now that I'm committed to staying up the entire night to do chores and the like? I'm totally able to procastinate! Ahhh... the beauty of life!

So, one thing that has for some unknown reason struck me today was the death of Steve Irwin. It's plaguing my thoughts and infiltrating my soul. I didn't even know the guy! Sure, I knew of him, but I'm not exactly an animal-obsessed person. I like dogs and Steve Irwin definitely didn't explore dogdom. But still! I'll contemplate this for a little bit while I deconstruct a song I'm OBSESSED with right now.

Krystal's "My Religion"

There's nothing wrong
With tradition
I'm a traditionalist at heart. I know it. As much as I respect contemporary church services and the like, I can't help but feel extremely awkward clapping for Jesus. I grew up quiet and content with the hymns. Then again... I was also the one wearing the flowers during bible school and jumping up and down for the kids... so maybe I've got a little of both running in my blood. But I still love hymns! Tradition in that sense, that's okay. Tradition in the sense of the things I'm working on breaking from my old church? That's where things get murky. Just because tradition holds that women can't be pastors, should we adhere to it now? Should we adhere to the tradition that homosexuals are bad people? Avoid people who are HIV Positive? Marry only other Lutherans? At one time, that was my life, part of my belief system. And now... I feel blessed to have moved past that. It's time for NEW traditions!
But tell me where it says
Not to follow our hearts
I worked on not following my heart pretty intensely-like for four years. It ended up rather destructive with my turning to alcohol to wash away all the of "sinful" thoughts and feelings I was having. It was easier to destroy my soul than to deal with it. And now that I've finally fully given into my heart and inevitably God? I've never been happier. It's pretty amazing. Too bad I couldn't figure out what my heart was saying sooner!
That's why so many
Of us are so confused
Confusion is mandatory for growth. As hard as the past few months have been on me... I would absolutely never trade any of it in. It was all about growth as me for a person and if I had to do it again knowing that I'd be able to come out of it knowing more about myself, God, and people? I would do it in a heartbeat. It's a beautiful disaster!
And will never live
Up to your rules
Dear Christ Lutheran: I suck at living under your rules. And, in turn, it sucked out a part of my soul being constrained by them. I love you all, but God's calling me to a different path. Wish it was THAT easy telling them that.

My religion doesn't hate
It'll never turn you away
It always understands
My religion won't condemn
Always lends a healing hand
It's love
My religion's love
This image of my religion, of Christianity... it's beautiful. I can't explain it. God wants us to love, to take care of one another. It's all about us interacting with one another, even on the most basic level. Love.

All it takes is to be willing
To sacrifice for
Someone who is in need
Then we can begin
To heal again
And love will
Sweep the land
I'm working to be more conscious of others' needs right now. Focusing on what I can do to improve the lives of others while living mine fully. It's been amzing so far and I've only just started! Is it always fun only getting four hours of sleep? Well... no. But, if I have to make that sacrifice to make someone's life even a tenth better? I'll do it for the rest of my life!

My religion's love

Okay, so Steve Irwin. I think what's affecting me so much about his death is the fact that it was so instantaneous and unexpected. Irwin was pursuing something he loved and died. And I get the sense that he died without regret. This got me thinking... could I die without regret? I mean, I know there's always going to be something unfinished. Something that I'll always want to do or aspire to be that I haven't quite done yet, but if I died today, could I say it was a life well lived?

In one aspect, yes. I think I could. Now that I've completed the journey thus far, I feel whole again. And if I had died before going on this disaster? I wouldn't have been... me! On the other hand, there's so much I want to do and say before I leave. I want everyone to know and feel how much I love them. To know that I think about them constantly... that I love them so much it hurts. Oh gosh. Nearly brings me to tears. Do I tell people that enough? Do I express it enough? Do I show them enough? I don't think so. And maybe that's why I'm focusing in on Irwin. He's shown me through his death that I need to not take for granted people.

Yodel.