Tuesday, April 08, 2003

I guess sometimes you just get used to the normal things of life. Driving. Watching tv. Being extremely bored. Feeling like you should be somewhere else, doing something else, with someone else. Regretting. Feeling sick to your stomach with the thought that you are not who you should be. Wondering if the intermittent smiles you have is true happiness or just a temporary escape from a life you think is going down the tubes. Well, it's probably a little of both.

The last two years have clued me in to a very important truth, one that is natural to some and dreadful to others: God could care less about giving you an extraordinary life. Often our desire to be extraordinary is just a veiled fear of being ordinary-- which is really just the most self centered thing in the world.

So I'll wake up in the morning, go to work, come home, do a few more things, go to bed. Within that routine I'll find what the monks over the centuries have found- that there are holy things to be found within a routine. There is holiness within the mundane acts of life. Small acts of decency and love are more special than a life of plenty.
Just finished watching the ETBU chapel online. My old friend Jason Fortenberry was preaching, so I thought I'd give it a look.

So many things change, but some stay the same. I am different than I was a couple of years ago. I know that, but watching the chapel made me realize how drastically different I am. There was a time when all that worship music did it for me, but not this time. I can't live with those answers anymore. I can't live with the false assumption that all the world understands what I'm talking about. Too many cliche's. Too many people trying to legitimize their lives by copying the words and feelings of others. Not enough creativity.

But despite all, I was greatly moved by two things: seeing Jason preach, and hearing "Because He Lives." I miss him and I miss hymns. I only spent a year getting to know Jason, but he is someone I admire. The hymns are my heritage, a part of who I am.