Muted Muck

Just muted the constant whine of the election news guys on the TV behind me. . . ears sagging from war words. Eyes bleeding red and blue.

I'm knackered of it all, and I don't even get to vote.

But it's not just the election. I had a few thoughts about my discombobulated nature on Thursday while driving my car across the Sierras and in Sacramento traffic, trailing the 26 foot big rig Penske that Jonathan drove. The entire four days we spent travelling from Denver to Salt Lake to Reno and finally to Lodi felt weird. I kept thinking, This move doesn't feel real. I don't have a job waiting for me. We're leaving our friends and family indefinitely, with no time limit. Two months ago we were squeezed into a city of 8 million people, now we'll have room to breathe in a city of 60,000. Even now, after Jonathan and I have set up most of our possessions in our rented townhouse and we've been introduced to our generous, unselfish new church family, it still feels odd. Why?

I think I know why. It's crazy, I admit (and frankly I'm embarrassed to publish it, so let's keep it between you and I and the computer screen) but I think it has something to do with the fact that three people have told me within the last week that they think the world is going to end soon, and for some strange reason, I've absorbed it into the unfiltered part of my brain--the worrywart, unable-to-watch-suspenseful movies-because-of-stress brain, not the reasonable, level-headed ENFJ brain, of course. Case in point: As I've been cleaning and organizing the house these past few days, I've been mentally making some goals and planning a cover letter for my resume. But before I can stop my thoughts, I find myself thinking: Why should I make plans? The world will be over and done with and my energies wasted.

This is pure INSANITY! Besides the fact that throughout human history people have been unsuccessfully predicting the last days, up to the actual date and time, and besides the fact that God told us we will never know the exact time, there are so many reasons why both the prediction of and the fact of the world ending are not worth worrying about. Especially as I establish a new life with the love of my life. This should be a fun change. But regardless, these are my first emotional thoughts. The scared looks on familiar faces have imprinted themselves on my mood, and I am psychologically scarred by the combination of economic crisis + election + end time fear + personal life juggling.

All I want right now is to cozy up to the familiar--to laugh with people I love, to watch the Office, to fantasize about the same future I fantasized about as a girl, to have a world of possibility wide open in front of me. Is maturity really a backward process... going back to childlike faith?

I know God's plans are perfect. But sometimes my desires are just too normal for his supernormal plans.

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