Home without purpose

Going to Whitworth makes it really easy for me to know theology. or debate theology.

Coming home to Fresno makes it really easy to not think

My Jesus doesn’t want either of those options for me, I don’t think.

When I was in Seattle I went to a seminar on Rhythms of Grace, taught by a truly graceful woman by the name of Christine Sine. She quoted the Message, in Matthew 11,

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly

That light and free living, sounds like cs lewis’ dance from Perelandra. The dance we were created to be a part of. When I am dancing well, I feel like I am glowing. I am filled with joy and understanding and wisdom and can bear grief so much better. I don’t know that I’ve glowed recently.

I talked to my mom recently about depression. My beloved KyKy is on medication for his depression now. she thinks i might be better off and happier at Whitworth if I maybe tried them too. She said I could try it for as short of a year. My immediate response was No. NO no no. I had a visceral response. The only reason I could come up with was that Kissel told me not to. Kissel says thats part of life, learning to deal with what comes your way. Kissel says that if you turn to medication to make bad stuff go away, the next time something bad comes, itll just take more and more to make it disappear. we build up tolerance, and then we crash. just like caffeine or any other drug.

Why is it okay for Kyle, supported for Kyle, even encouraged for Kyle, but I don’t want to think about the possibility for it for myself? Kelly and I would talk about depression. I’m so hierarchical. I looked down on her for being a year younger than me, but was it only because I didn’t want to think of her as an equal in this relationship so she couldn’t conceivably be equal and therefore rival in any other?

I’ve hung out with Stuart 3 times since being home. I get desperate to get out. Logans busy doing Logan things. I wonder if he’s happy. He seems pretty carefree whenever I talk to him. or maybe touchy if I criticize. I’ve climbed down a lot of high horses since high school, and now i’m so much more conscious of being insecure. I don’t know that I love him like Jesus loves. I don’t know who in my life I love with the love of Christ. I don’t really feel the love of Christ in me much. except for small nanoseconds like when I started this blog.

I miss the security of Christs love. for that matter I miss the security of Stuarts love, not gonna lie. He doesn’t love me any more. It intrigues and astounds me how that boy moves on and shuts off. Not that he should be madly in love still. but its the whole distance even from any memories. i’m perplexedly impressed and almost jealous of those skills. except when he hugs me goodbye. I can’t quite figure out how calculated he is being, or if our hugs are just naturally doubling every time. it still feels really good in his arms. resting my head on his chest. he’s a good height for hugs.

Its also kind of ridiculous that I can’t even talk about Jesus for one whole blog without getting distracted. I don’t know what the relationship is between my depression and my Jesus. I know that he used to make it better, but there are two halves of me fighting a completely different fight, to which Jesus has somehow become irrelevant. whether to believe that science and psychology and brain chemistry can change me (not heal me, but help me yes) or to believe that its all in my head and I’ll get through it just fine, and I’ll learn to cope and deal and grow stronger. And I’ll keep blogging and thinking and analyzing and figuring stuff out. And somehow that will make me happier. Because I guess I’ve come to the conclusion that happiness does matter. and I do want to be happy. and i’m not happy at whitworth, most of the time.

At Whitworth second semester: My highlights were CiC every Tues night. That hour was always well spent. And getting offcampus whenever possible (not the dinner dates tho or roomie times or group events…) but gardening. and that time at the coffeeshop while josh walked around and talked to jesus and bums and i feverishly wrote my essays for the scholarships. and I loved time with the refugee family. and I loved babysitting. and of course my Family time. and generally Church. well. I always love Church, but sometimes at Vintage it was just church. not because of Steve or the sermon but the company time after. we kinda suck at being a loving community with each other. GAH! not gonna get into that.

its time for me to go. my brother needs my computer so he can work on his english paper so he doesn’t get a D. maybe more later.

pray for me? if you’re reading this.