Mid life crises, I don’t know what it even is. I think I hit mine at thirty. Do men ever really grow up? Maybe only the ones with no fun left in them. All my life I was told to grow up, act my age take responsibility. Why? So I can be as miserable as others. I don’t dislike my lot. I am very grateful for what I have, but I still don’t know what I want.
Who really does, unless you are very driven? But then what are they searching for anyway. Even if you reach perfection what then. Like when you finish a computer game, do you ever really play it again? Grow up but my childish ways have protected me. Shielded me from really caring, really getting hurt, or have they. Busy dreaming my big plans as life just goes by without me, or with me, it doesn’t care. I’m lucky to have found someone who does care. Even one is a blessing from God yet many people never see this. We are always chasing that dream, that treasure that status symbol that promotion, most of all what is it, that recognition!
We have all been there, pretending its nothing, don’t mention it, it was nothing, you deserve the credit not me. While inside we are screaming ME ME ME give me some honor give me the credit, award me, and yes it was something I worked bloody hard for! this recognition. Did I really? Was it so hard? Did I put as much work in as everyone thinks I did? Should I be honest about it? Should I care…? I have learned to deal with guilt I have learned to move on. Promise myself I won’t do it again and I will give it my all next time. Will I? I already know I won’t? I already know I will make someone else’s work look like mine or mine look like someone else’s…. What am I even going on about? Time to shut the door close my mind escape to me. That’s when I’m even more scared , that’s when I listen to my thoughts and am not pontificating to others, that’s when I am talking to myself trying to convince myself I know better, pass it off as prayer to myself, even trying to fool myself. I came up with it in the same head that I am trying justify it to.
Pretend to be singing when I am disturbed. She knows I am talking to myself. Sometimes she even listens to me before disturbing me. Very disturbing and most definitely not normal. I hate when you do that! I make out I’m not embarrassed but I am. I don’t believe I am the only one who does, first sign of madness, then I have never claimed not to be. I like being mad, it helps me cope, put things into perspective, deal with? Whatever.
What do I want? No really want. Follow my heart what does that mean, can it pay the bills? I heard a saying, ’life is what happens while you’re busy making plans’. Do I have the bottle to do what I want? Do I even want to do what I really want? Maybe if I knew what it is.
Listened to a father tell his son when he asked. Do what you love doing but be good enough at it that someone will pay you to do it. What am I good at? So here I am, I will ask again what I am good at. Normally that’s my queue to gain some praise, listen to others say nice things about me, what are my foundations what am I to build upon. How do I hand everything over? I know the words but where do I start. Do I concentrate on the things I hate and that I know are wrong or do I focus on my strong points. How do I join the dots up? Where is the line between spiritual and materialistic? I feel sorry for the kid on the telly that’s starving and tell myself I’m definitely going to do something about it this time, justify a small prayer in my head which never quite makes it to my mouth. I go to the fridge again. Can’t possible have yoghurt; look at the fruit, not in the mood. I will have a biscuit instead. Thank God that add is over was feeling real bad there for a while.
Should spend time with you now. Get on my knees. I will in a moment. The football is starting now. You like football don’t you, spend some time with me as I watch some more. Thanks Lord, I can’t figure out where the bad feeling comes from. My own guilt? Or something else. Is it me again? Put you on the telly for some lazy worship. Justify that I am learning about you. I know better. I watch the wall going up.
I leave the mirror and forget you. I want to be better than this. I know your promises, I believe them yet even the demons believe. They have even seen you and yet I know you are there. I am a white washed tomb, I look good on the outside I say all the right things, I pontificate my version of faith. I thrive on rewarding talk and seeming to live a holy life. I cling to such passages that no man can take me from your hand. Does that include me? I cannot remember a promise I have ever kept and yet I call myself a man. I let everyone down sooner or later. I dwell in self pity I languish in defeat; I set my bed in failure. I cannot fall from here, the only way is up the worst is behind me…….. I’m a King so you say and yet You are my King. I long for your return. I long for my death. I am scared and frightened. I dream of eternity and cannot take it in. Give me five minutes of it to taste. A drop of water for my tongue. Can I dream of a kingdom when I can’t organise my own household. Your Kingdom come, not quick enough. It is here already yet my faith is smaller than the mustard seed. I plead to you ‘where are you’? more like where am I?
So many opportunities yet I moan. I am not persecuted. Harder to live faithfully when you’re rich. Life would be simpler if I lived in Ethiopia. I am thankful when I can direct my thinking and thoughts away from me. When I think of You it is still about how much of a failure I am. I believe help me with my unbelief.
How do I become a channel, how do I convince myself that I am not a body with a soul: I am a soul with a body. My flesh hates you. I love you so I say I’m weak help me. Even my excuses are weak. Will I be different when I meet you? Will I meet you?
The work of the Lord is to believe in the one He sent. Well I do so what now? Is this good enough?
What about doing your work? Do I have the confidence, the determination even the knowledge to witness on your behalf? It’s not as though you need me, someone else will do it if I fail. My friends have started to pass over, I am starting to take stock but am I eager enough. Do I have the drive or the ambition? You are God give me the strength. Why me what have I done. Is that the problem? My own past holds me back. Is that not the carpenter Joseph’s son? You have faced every fear I have or ever will face and a lot more. I could not last two seconds in your shoes not even one. Yet you told your disciples that they will do more than you ever did. How is that possible, yet you are God. Can I stand in the gap? Could I fight for you or do I remain a coward. I have never wanted to get too big for my boots, because I have always awaited the rug to be pulled from beneath me. I relish distractions I allow fear into my thinking. Are you sure you want me. What did I do for you to die for me? I rebel against you in everything I do. I hear your voice yet I pretend I cannot hear, who am I kidding, you know my thoughts before I even think them and still I lie to myself.
Where am I going, I keep asking .I’m sure you answer yet can I listen? Sort me out make me want your life. But that’s not how it works is it. Make me good; make me loyal, put strength into me. Force my hand take choice away from me enlist me and make me your slave. Save me from me. Hear my plea, my fears, my crises.