My mind is splintered in a dozen directions and I don’t even realize I’m eating cold tortellini. My mind is playing tricks and so is the monitor, neither wanting to show me reality. The wind blows cold on my bare arms but I don’t complain. Later the rain falls slowly, calmly, washing the dirt and grime away–but I still feel so lost in a maze of I don’t know what. I want to wake up tomorrow and hope it’s all gone. Hope everything is better. My mind aches and I yearn for something better. I yearn for a tomorrow. I yearn for another time and another place. I yearn for another situation. I yearn for something other than what I have right now. Is this just afternoon apathy, or a headache that won’t go away? The responsibilities assault my mind like an army and suddenly I’m out of ammo. Maybe I can wake up tomorrow in somebody else’s shoes. Then I realize just how foolish I am.

Tonight I was wondering what it would be like if we didn’t have to sleep. Of course I realized that wouldn’t be any fun because there’s nothing like crawling into bed when you’re tired and waking up after a good night’s sleep. But what if we didn’t need so much sleep. What if we only needed an hour or two? I was thinking how nice that would be. And I wasn’t even thinking of using the extra time to finish my neglected duties of the day. I was thinking of reading books and just thinking. Bed time comes and instead of shutting out the light I tell my roommate I’m going to think. Something about that just appeals to me. I was thinking earlier this week how over the summer I wanted to do so much. I wanted to read for an hour every day. I wanted to write for an hour every day. But if I had six hours of quiet nighttime to read and reflect… A few summers ago I worked the late shift at the grocery store. I went in at 6 p.m. and worked until 2:30 in the morning. My girlfriend at the time hated it, but I loved it. There’s something about nighttime when everyone else has gone to bed and an echoing stillness covers everything. I love that time. It’s too bad I actually need sleep and I can’t just stay up and enjoy this time.

This morning during church I decided what I was going to write here tonight. After filling out a church survey on worship I decided it was time for a little tirade on worship. I was going to type up my dissertation on worship for you all to read. But I don’t feel very worshipful right now, and reflecting on something I’m lacking in seems like a waste of time. Perhaps I’m just running from the problem, but not tonight.

Have you ever felt like life has you down? The immutable weight of the future is crushing your spine and you just don’t want to take it anymore. Melancholy. Pessimism. Depression. It’s really not that severe, it just feels like it. There’s just a lot of unknowns looming on the horizon and I really wish they’d become knowns. I suppose that’s why Jesus told us not to worry. If the lily of the field is clothed in all its splendor then surely God will see that I’m taken care of. It’s a good Sunday School answer, but I still worry.

Sometimes the human mind just needs a break. This past week was my spring break and I tried to do a lot of catching up. Unfortunately, my brain didn’t quite agree with that plan. Sometimes you just have to give in to your brain and do nothing for a while. Your brain usually knows what it’s talking about.

This afternoon I also saw break in the spitting rain to see the sky split open and the setting sun shine across the horizon. It lit everything up under the dark rain clouds and cast a beautiful rainbow, stretching from one end of the horizon to the other. If you looked close enough you could even see a second rainbow. Everyone stopped for a moment and looked up to the sky. A couple crossed the street to get a better look. A man stepped out of his car and craned his neck to the sky. The gas station attendant left her post and came outside to gaze at the sight. While pumping my gas I let my eyes run up and down the bright wave of color. A few minutes later I was a several miles down the freeway and the rainbow was all but gone, the sun vanishing behind the horizon. The power of nature to make man stop is amazing.

What is man that you are mindful of him? We push on behind our layers of reality, behind our safe layers of civilization. Our rules, our laws that protect us from ourselves. We draw the cord tighter in an attempt to keep it all together, and we come that much closer to bursting at the seams. And out would flow a dreadful mess for you and me. Deep down what remains of a man? You back him into a corner and what will he do? You strip away his livelihood, his possessions, his family, his laws, his rules; what does he have left? His morals? Or do those slip away with everything else? Bad things happen and am I supposed to believe that was by divine orchestration? There is a certain darkness clouding men’s hearts, and it clouds the world as well. We like to hide behind our pretty ads, our clean clothes, our sweet smelling perfume, our new cars, our beautiful civilization. But something primal dwells deep within. Something so horrible that we don’t want to admit that it’s there. But it is there. Only the hollow men, the stuffed men push on and try to ignore it. They proceed not with a bang, but a whimper, and all goes so quietly into that good night. But they don’t understand. They’ve fallen asleep in class, again. They don’t understand the horror, the horror. And they don’t understand that the end has begun–there is a hope, it springs eternal, and it’s not finished yet. It doesn’t have to end with a whimper.

There’s something about nighttime that I love. Everything is still and quiet. Each tiny little noise is magnified and you have to move slowly and purposefully. Outside the night air is just as peaceful, but cooler, refreshing. Animals are out, warily scampering across the grass, eyeing you as you pass. Inside everything is calm and quiet. Everyone else is asleep and a deep quiet descends on everything. It’s tranquil. I could almost sit on the couch for hours and enjoy it.

I can’t help but wonder what happened to the days of long ago when nighttime meant sinister shadows and creepy shapes. I used to think a monster lived in my Dad’s bathroom. My bedroom was across from my parents, and when I crossed the threshold into my room I could see the darkness that was my Dad’s bathroom out of the corner of my eye. I always dove for my bed so the monster wouldn’t get me. If I made it to my bed before he got me I’d be safe. Once I was in my bed I couldn’t see the bathroom anymore, and it was okay. Sometimes I’d march right into my parents’ room and turn the light on in my Dad’s bathroom. The monster never liked that, but then I didn’t have to worry about him.

But no for some reason those thoughts never come. I’ve embraced the darkness. I’ve realized its peacefulness, and I bask in the quiet. I can’t help but wonder what that says about me.

Some days come and go, I wake up half an hour late and stumble to class without a shower, they end going to bed way too late, wishing I had somehow gotten to bed earlier. In between way too many things happen, and when I sit down at night to think about something, I just can’t put my finger on just one. Prepare yourself for an overflowing fountain of thoughts.

So what am I going to do with my life? That’s become a pressing question lately. Next December I’ll graduate from college and enter the real world. That’s a scary prospect. And it’s getting to the point where I’m having to answer the question of what I’m going to do with my life. Just because I’m majoring in writing, does that mean I have to be a writer? Do I have to leave college and get a job as a writer? (and if so, can you tell me where I get one of those jobs?) Or can I do something else? Are my options limited to writing and writing related jobs? Can I work at a grocery store? Would that be so bad? I certainly still have passions and dreams about writing, and perhaps I could pursue those part time. Bring in a steady income at a grocery store and work a little less often on writing. Is that even an option? Of course let’s be reasonable, you have loans and bills to pay. But do I have to be so locked in? I just can’t help wondering and asking questions about my future. Am I locked in to spending forty hours a week behind a desk? Can it work any other way. And where is God in all of this? What would he have me do?

So many questions. I was going to spill forth with several different thoughts that have pounded me today, a truly random assortment of my day. But I’ve realized that I’m a little too frazzled to treat any of them with any dignity. So rather than grasp at straws and come up with something that leaves you wishing I had just gone to bed, I’ll just go to bed.

So at what point do you toss in the towel and let it go? How long are you allowed to stick in your two cents, to fight for what you believe? Or do you just give it up and let it go? Why does it even have to be a difficult issue? Shouldn’t it just be a casual conversation between friends? Shake hands when the night is done and part ways? Since when do we have to draw lines and establish boundaries? I thought you didn’t want any boundaries. I could even care less if I’m right. We’ve long forgotten what the real issue is. I’m more concerned about your future. Who’s going to listen to you if you won’t even listen to me? At least we share some beliefs. But if you cast out those closest to you, who’s left? And why would anyone so far away from you even want to come near? It just doesn’t make any sense. I want to just let it go. It’s really not worth the trouble. But how many more have to feel what I’ve felt? How many more have to deal with this narrow mindedness? You’re not always right. I’m not either. Sometimes you have to admit that. It’s just sad when God’s own can’t even get along. How are we to spread the good news if we can’t even show it to each other?

I was wondering today what defines us as people. What makes me who I am? Do I make myself who I want to be? Is who I am defined by who I think I am or who I want to be? Or is who I am defined but what I do, my actions? I was pondering that today. It seems like the modern American response would be that I define who I am. It’s a very selfish way to look at it and keeps the “I” in command. After all, it’s all about me. That was my initial answer. After all, who doesn’t want to be in charge of who they are? But then I thought about it, and I realized that who I want to be or who I think I am doesn’t count for a hill of beans. I’m defined by what others see in me. I can think I’m a nice guy and want to be a nice guy all I want–but if I’m a jerk to everyone I meet, they’ll see me as a jerk. I’ll be a jerk. My own wants and desires about who I am don’t matter if my actions aren’t in line with them. You as a person are defined by how others perceive you. That’s kind of an interesting way of looking at things, and it doesn’t sit well with me. I’m uncomfortable with it. I don’t want to be a product of what others think of me. Yet I do have control over what they think of me. My actions in front of them will define in their minds who I am. So, in a sense, you do define who you are even though you define yourself through others perception of you. How’s that for a brain twister. I’ll let you mull that one over.

Things are different at two in the morning. Every light in every bedroom is off, and the only light comes from the vigilant street light outside. A subtle and overwhelming silence hovers over everything, smothering it, and glaring at the tiniest of noises attempting to shatter the quiet. For some odd an inexplicable reason it is now that my mind wants to wander. It wants to run up and down the rows of memory in my head and recount the day’s dilemmas. What could I not figure out today? My mind begins to chew away at it in the silence, and the silence seems to understand the problem. I feel isolated, alone, and quiet, but the answers to life’s questions seem to come more readily. It’s as if the lack of noise has awakened a previously unused section of my brain. I’ve tapped into a new power and I want to let my mind push the limits and conquer my daily difficulties. But I look at the clock and realize I should be sleepy. The alarm will soon blare and the noise of the day to day will return. I wish I could conduct my daily business in this overwhelming silence. It seems so much more productive, distraction free, and somehow simpler. If only sleep weren’t a problem.