Life of Pride
Monday, July 04, 2005
I haven't posted for several days, though I've tried. The empty blogger form window loads in front of me; I sit and stare at it; but nothing happens. Yesterday I typed a sad little bit of introspection, but I left it in the middle to talk to my mom, and when I came back a sibling had closed the web browser. It's for the best anyway, because I didn't like that post.
I think I'm trying to get a grasp on the "me" who returned from Princeton. With knowledge comes sadness, indeed. Our world is so messed up that nothing but Jesus was ever wholly good. This makes it hard for me to wholeheartedly rejoice this 4th of July in the founding of our country. It is certainly the best country available, but oh, we have so many troubles too.
I've been staring at the big picture so long that I am lost, a tiny speck drifting somewhere in the lower left corner. I feel the same way I did when I was twelve years old and my mom told me for the first time that I was too big to use the swingset in our backyard. I felt robbed. "If she had told me this would happen, how much more I would have swung and climbed before!" If I had known how irreversible was the condition of adulthood, I would never have wished for it. Whatever happened to my cozy little mind that stretched beyond the four walls of my home only by the medium of fiction?
Time has always scraped my flesh raw as it passed. No matter how quietly it crept, I've felt the cold edge of its movement. The "I" who is typing this post is just one point in the total Sarah. When I see an old lady creak herself to her feet and walk her weary limbs past me, she is myself. The very small child who runs shrieking along the edge of the pool until the lifeguard shouts at her to stop - she is myself too. One is my past; one is to come. Who am I? Blasted if I know.
When I stay very, very busy I can ignore the fourth dimension. When summer gives me time to think and life slows down, I notice every bit of temporal change. I gnaw at my cuticles and think, think, think. I take all the previous months, and I turn them around and flip them until they fit into myself most neatly. I realize most other people my age are quite blissfully unaware of time. I can never, ever forget it.
I think I'm trying to get a grasp on the "me" who returned from Princeton. With knowledge comes sadness, indeed. Our world is so messed up that nothing but Jesus was ever wholly good. This makes it hard for me to wholeheartedly rejoice this 4th of July in the founding of our country. It is certainly the best country available, but oh, we have so many troubles too.
I've been staring at the big picture so long that I am lost, a tiny speck drifting somewhere in the lower left corner. I feel the same way I did when I was twelve years old and my mom told me for the first time that I was too big to use the swingset in our backyard. I felt robbed. "If she had told me this would happen, how much more I would have swung and climbed before!" If I had known how irreversible was the condition of adulthood, I would never have wished for it. Whatever happened to my cozy little mind that stretched beyond the four walls of my home only by the medium of fiction?
Time has always scraped my flesh raw as it passed. No matter how quietly it crept, I've felt the cold edge of its movement. The "I" who is typing this post is just one point in the total Sarah. When I see an old lady creak herself to her feet and walk her weary limbs past me, she is myself. The very small child who runs shrieking along the edge of the pool until the lifeguard shouts at her to stop - she is myself too. One is my past; one is to come. Who am I? Blasted if I know.
When I stay very, very busy I can ignore the fourth dimension. When summer gives me time to think and life slows down, I notice every bit of temporal change. I gnaw at my cuticles and think, think, think. I take all the previous months, and I turn them around and flip them until they fit into myself most neatly. I realize most other people my age are quite blissfully unaware of time. I can never, ever forget it.
Comments:
Hmm... remember, my dear, don't become too introspective and unhappy. Yes, we are little specks in the big picture and yes, our culture does seem to be sliding downhill...
BUT God does not see us as little specks but as individuals He knows and loves and has ideas and plans for
AND lots of wonderful things are still happening
AND you are blissfully young and God is outside time :).
Post a Comment
BUT God does not see us as little specks but as individuals He knows and loves and has ideas and plans for
AND lots of wonderful things are still happening
AND you are blissfully young and God is outside time :).
