Worthwhile

I've been struggling with worth lately. And by lately I mean my entire life. Worth is such a tricky thing. Its hard to describe, but so easy to place; on people, on things, on events. My mom and dad have worth to me. But in the same breath I could say that my pillow has worth as well (its one of those foam ones).

A friend asked me and my friends to write a short message to each other. Good memories, encouragements, prayers, etc. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Because each of those people has so much worth in my life. I value those friendships so much, and writing to each of them about the strange and hilarious things we've done in the past and how much I cherish them, really showed me how much those people mean to me. They are... worthy friends.

For some reason it is so easy for me to dole that out on them, so easy because they deserve being called worthy. They are incredible people. We've been through so much together, we've seen each other up and down, they given so much of themselves to me, and made me laugh like no one could. Of course these people have worth in my life! They are Worthwhile.

But when it comes to accepting worth, that's a different story. I know that, just as I have, my friends are writing nice comments to me as well. They will probably be wonderfully heartfelt, well-written and I will cry because of it. But I'm almost positive I won't be able to accept them. Why is that? I can't seem to see my good side. No matter what people say, or how wonderful the person is saying it, no matter how genuine they may be, I just can't seem to accept the fact that I'm worth anything. All I see are the worst parts of me, all I know is how I will just screw up again. Why can't I break that?

Is it just Satan? Am I that lame that I can realize I'm being lied to and still accept the lie? For me its a fairly believable lie. I was listening to O Holy Night today on the raido, and I have a favorite line. Its the part that goes,
"Till He appeared, and the soul felt its worth."
I love that line because its so true. Until God came down to be with us, and tell us in person, looking into our eyes, that He loves us... our souls couldn't help but feel worthless. But now its here. The Bible is riddled with how much God loves us. The very sacrifice of his Son shows how desperately He cares for us. And yet...

I feel unworthy. And rightly so, I am. We all are. But its more than that. I feel so unworthy in life that I can't believe God would want to love me. And if I can't believe that God would want to love me or think I'm worth His time, how can I ever believe that the people around me would want to love me either? I don't want to be an obligation! I don't want people to love me because they feel sorry for me or they feel they have to. I don't want people to spend time with me because they think doing so will make them a better Christian. I don't want family members to ask about my life or say they love me because, as a family member, they are obligated to. All I feel like is an obligation! I'm just a burden that gets passed off between a few good people who only do so because they have pity on me. And the more I think this way, the more I feel unworthy, the lonelier I get.

I really don't know what to do or say right now. This is a bit of a ramble post, completely unprepared. My brain knows I'm wrong, but for some reason my heart knows itself too well to ever accept that. I don't think any amount of loving words will do it either, because I've been looking there. You could fill this post with comments of encouragement and it probably would make me feel worse about myself. I guess I keep thinking that if I can get someone to say that I'm a Worthwhile piece of their life, and that they want to be with me, I can convince myself that God really does love me too. But I'm pretty sure that its supposed to be the other way around. We love because He loved first.

Gosh, I'm such a downer. And you know what annoys me the most? I feel like I'm just driving those around me nuts. Because they know God loves me, and some of them might too, and here I am, like a donkey refusing to budge. Why can't I just accept this and move on? I know the truth! So why am I so down on myself?

I've got to break this.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I was reading Oswald Chambers last night and I came upon a very well-thought out two sentences.

'Tis because I am ordinary
Thy ways so often look ordinary to me.

Also last night I had Men's group. I gotta tell you, I love Tuesdays now. Wayne came in and said, "This vessel's ready for some fillin'!" And he's exactly right. That is what those nights are for, rejuvenation. We decided that since this was the last time we would see each other until after Thanksgiving that we would say something we were thankful for.

Listening to those guys speak, it was so genuine. They were thankful for the greatest things on earth; God's never-ending Love, his faithfulness through all our downfalls, his salvation for wretched sinners. And they were thankful for the little things; hot water, a roof over our heads, food on the table, a job that puts it there, the fact that they could walk under their own power, the fact that they could tell their right hand from their left.

I was so blind. Kenny said that "You know when its God speaking." And I know when God speaks to me, because I feel like I'm going to throw up. He knows I won't just jump to it with a simple little word. He's gotta squeeze me until I'm so uncomfortable that I have to do what he wants or I'll be sick. Well, after each guy spoke, I felt sicker, and sicker. When we went to pray, I just had to cry out.

I was so blind. I've complained about my job, about being home, about being lonely, about not having enough money to really do anything. But look at what I have! I'm living in a wonderful home that has hot water, and heat, and food and pets and I'm not paying for it! I have two, TWO jobs that have been adequately paying my loans! The worse health issue I have is itchy skin! I can see, and hear, and taste, and talk, and think, and drive, and pray, and work, and sing! My parents not only love me, they are thankful I'm still home! I always think I'm a burden on them, but they ENJOY my company. I have so much family and we all, truly, love each other. And I have my pillars of men to support me, and grow me and love me and PRAY FOR ME.

I was so... blind. And I can't take that anymore. I need to see everything God does for me. My life could be so much harder, so much more desperate.

I'm sorry, Lord. 'Tis because I am so ordinary, Thy ways so often seem ordinary.



Happy Thanksgiving.

Like a Glove...

Have you ever owned a pair of gloves? If you're in Ohio I'm sure you have. I've had several different pairs of gloves over the years, and none of them really fit well. I want some that are waterproof because you always have to handle snow in the winter. But they're so big and clunky that you have no grip on anything. So I've tried the form fitting ones, but they're always made of cloth. The second they get wet, your hands are cold for the rest of the day. I've never really found a nice pair of gloves that fit.

I think churches are like gloves. They fit some people, and don't others. And you have to search through all the different churches until you find one that fits snug. Its a really hard thing to do. You can always settle, though. The church doesn't quite fit, I can't really get a good grip on things, but its close by. Save some gas money. The church is my denomination... I don't like anyone there, but I can't go to any other denomination. I like another church, but its far away. My family goes to this church, I don't want to leave them behind. I've spent so much time in this church, I can't just leave them... they're my spiritual family. On and on. The gloves don't quite fit, but I'll just deal with it.

Should we? Should we just settle on a church for these reasons? I don't know, that sounds wrong to me. Right now, I have no church. I've stopped going to my parent's church, which I grew up in. Its a wonderful little church, full of loving people, but I don't fit anymore. I outgrew the gloves. I finally gained the courage to leave when an old family friend and church member heard I wanted to leave and said, "Go, there's nothing here for you anymore." She saw how the gloves were stretching at the seams, and that they didn't work for me anymore. I counted it as the church's blessing for me to move on. So I did.

But now I'm in that awkward church shopping phase. You feel like a mooch, coming in and taking for a Sunday or two and leaving nothing behind. But that's what it is. You try a church on for a little while, and if it doesn't fit you move on. Since I decided to leave Grace Brethren, I've been to two different churches, one of them for at least four Sundays. And you know what? It is a very nice pair of gloves. I don't really see anything wrong with them. But they don't really... fit. I'm kind of sad about it too. Because its a young church full of vibrant people, they have good music, tons of ministries, and the Pastor gives, truly amazing sermons. I've grown from each one. And yet...

There's something missing. I've been told several times lately that the right church will feel like home. That's a comforting thought, because I love home. And churches are homes, homes of your spiritual family, its God's HOUSE. If we're most comfortable in our own homes, how much more should we be in the home of our Lord? I desire that deeply, and I don't think I ever really have. I want that second home full of family where I can grow and put back into. So although this church I've been going to is a really, very nice pair of gloves... I can't just settle for that.

I need a home. And I won't stop looking until I find it.

Breaking Up

I'm so tired of TV. I feel like that's all I do when I'm not working. I'm tired of this computer too. When I'm not watching TV I'm usually on the computer. Or both. Don't get me wrong, there are good things on TV. Actually right now there are so many good shows on that I can't keep up. So some nights we pack in a few shows back to back just to catch up. Tonight we got in two and Mom wanted to go on to another. I said, "Are we just going to watch TV all night?". To which she said, "Ethan, you say that all the time but then you just go get on your computer."

She's right. I mean, look at me, I'm writing a blog post! And when I do get on the computer, I just check my social networks (facebook, xanga, other blogs) and then... well, I really don't know what else to do on the internet.

I miss people. I harken back to my college days a lot, but its really a huge reference point for me. When I was in college, there was one thing that was never lacking: conversation. There are people, everywhere. You eat together, study together, learn together, worship together, live together, and when I was a freshman, shower together. I mean, being alone is a luxury in college. But the old saying is so very true; you don't know what you have until its gone. I would scrounge for time by myself back then. Time to read or just have some quiet. But now...

Now I have so much time to myself that I could have built a scale model of London out of toothpicks in a couple of days. I miss the people. Granted I'm not alone, but its nothing like college. Wonderful conversations would just sprout out of nowhere, at times you never would have expected (the bathroom in the Den at 1 am, an empty theatre before practice, the cafeteria between meals). I was challenged intellectually. I had discussions about Jesus. I had discussions about movies. Ideas were created, about plays, games, parties, travel, projects. Some of them even came through. I got to learn about people's lives, their troubles, their dreams. I got hear stories one after another. And there was more laughing than I could handle.

I may be an introvert, but I need people in my life. Bad. Right now, people are at a distance, literally. And I don't really know what to do about that. But I can tell you one thing. That box and this screen I'm staring at right now... they will never be able to offer me a fraction of what those people in college could. So TV and me, we're gonna start growing apart, I'm afraid. You've been a reliable companion I'll admit it... but you're bringing me down, box.

Things have got to change, and there are so much better things for me to do.