Where to begin? It’s been a long time, an eternity it seems, since my last post and I feel there are nearly a million ways this post could go, but I guess once again we shall just have to find where the keys take me.
I have to say, I love taking trips, but I despise getting ready for them. Spring break was amazing, however the week before was atrocious. To call that week an uphill battle would be a blatant understatement. I do not claim my work this semester to be taxing or grueling, however the anticipation of the upcoming rest and relaxation was almost too much to bear. It made everything that week seem so much more draining and wearing on the body, nerves and spirit. I think it goes without saying at this point that there was a significant misplacement of hope in this trip. I could go on about the trip itself, but to keep it short, I had a great time with my housemate enjoying the weather for the most part, the scenery and some of the interesting people we met onboard and on land in Grand Cayman and Ocho Rios.
OK, so I feel something far more pressing at hand which really stood out to me today as I was studying for a test coming up on Wednesday. It’s been well established that I think, live, breathe, love music, so the fact that once again a song has an impact on my life should be pretty commonplace. “Free to Fail” by VOTA, whose name I think speaks for itself, was a gentle reminder that I do not have to live a perfect life otherwise mine would have been over in early childhood. I say this somewhat jokingly, but the fact is that I, like many, have screwed up so many times, but it’s OK. It’s a bit like beating a dead horse to many, but I needed this reminder. He lived the perfect life so that I, who could never, do not have to. Emphasis on the phrase “who could never” because it’s an absolute truth. I don’t care who you are, there is no way I or anyone else could argue to the contrary. You know what? That is alright with me. Yes, there is definitely a part of me that wishes I could, but honestly, the burden is far too great. I am not my own savior, I cannot be anyone else’s because I am incapable of bearing that on my two shoulders. All that is expected of me in this life is to lovingly submit myself to the grace and love showered on me constantly by a God who provides and cares more than anyone on this earth has and could possibly. When I stop and smell the rose that is His love, it is sweeter than anything else, but how often do I do this? How often do I get over my machismo and allow myself to be taken care of when I have needs that are real and cannot be met by another? Oh, He is good. It is by His unfathomable grace that I am still in relationship with the God of the Universe, most intimate friend and, yes, lover that has, does and ever will exist. All the times I have betrayed this divine romance, I do not deserve to be in the same universe as this God, but He calls me son. What more can I say?