Closure
Friday - November 19, 2004 - 12:39 AM
With senioritis, take two, in full swing, I've had plenty of down time this past week. Which for me means one thing: that's right, introspective contemplation and the inevitably subsequent self-loathing. Right on cue, I might add, what with the end of the line finally in sight and approaching all too suddenly.
I don't know how it looks from an outsider's perspective, but in my mind's eye, it's far too easy to see the places where I've failed and get down on myself. But a lengthy diatribe is not on my agenda tonight. Rather, it's just the opposite. I want closure.
I want to stop feeling negatively about myself, most especially about myself in light of my experiences here in Pittsburgh. Granted, college has been the biggest struggle of my life, and I did commit my share of major disappointments. Still, it hasn't been all bad. And, with the finish line just a month away, I want to look back and feel no bitterness, no anger, no remorse. None whatsoever, because it's simply too futile to harbor regret.
Perhaps my biggest continuous struggle in life has been to maintain hope in the face of wavering circumstances. I've always let my present surroundings and situations dictate my attitude and faith. What better opportunity than now, then, to reverse that and finally rely on God to the fullest? That is, rely on Him to restore my heart and hope, not immediately change my circumstances, though that is surely welcome.
And so, I'm ready for closure. I'm ready for God to heal my heart from anything negative from the past four-plus years, with all its disappointments, all its regrets, all its worries, all its burdens -- even those buried deep within and deemed unbreakable. And not only heal my heart, but teach it to learn from the mistakes and to learn to forgive myself and to learn to be forgiven. And lastly, not only to learn these things, but to finally see and accept myself daily in light of that mysterious, yet real all-encompassing grace of the Father.
The end is near. It's only a month away. But I'm ready to let go and move on, and I'm ready for a new start, a tabula rasa. This time, I pray that the closure will be complete, so that the tabula can truly be rasa.
Permalink - 4 Comments
History In The Making
Tuesday - October 26, 2004 - 11:59 PM
It might be overstating the obvious, but we are in an exciting time in history. And no, I'm not talking about the Red Sox's unprecedented series comeback against the Yankees, although it did make for an attention-grabbing, procrastination-inducing week or so. Nor am I referring to what now seems like an inevitable World Series victory for the Red Sox, thereby breaking the long drought for the Boston club.
On a not-by-much but still nonetheless larger scale, we are a week away from rewriting the history books, the culmination of what has been an exhaustive political process. I remain, to the end, quite uninformed about the whole thing, not knowing whom to trust or what to believe in the way of the world of big-time politics. Regardless, I can appreciate the fact that the America will cross over a crucial threshold in her history, in what promises to be the closest presidential election in, uh, well, four years.
The course of my personal history may also be changed in less than two months' time. Come the end of December, I will either be looking forward to starting my career in the new year, thereby sealing my fate as a full-fledged adult and allowing me to gain financial independence -- an important psychological achievement, if nothing else; or I will be moving back home, jobless and defeated, with only a handful of moral victories and life lessons to be had from this whole college experience, and doomed to scour the classifieds and employment websites for the next who-knows-how-long. It's daunting to think that, much like the election, things are still very much up in the air.
Then again, to say that things are up in the air is to somehow imply that things are being left to random chance and happenstance. Which is not the case. I know that God is in control. And I must and do believe this. And it's not because it guarantees that everything will divinely go my way in this belief system, nor is it because to believe otherwise would be to shatter everything I've proclaimed to believe for my entire life.
No, it is because the God who authored History -- who penned everything from Creation and the Fall, willed the intervention of Christ and His merciful work of redemption, and even wrote the crazy events of this faithless age we're living in -- is the very same God who calls me His own.
Why should I abandon that knowledge of who I am in the light of who He is, at a time like this, perhaps the first time in a long time -- or possibly even ever -- that my trust in His promises becomes tested for real, and the illusion of that life-long safety net of childhood provision is soon to be taken away? Now is not the time to lose sight of the One who is Lord over all. Come what may, in God I trust.
Permalink - 8 Comments
Road Rage
Saturday - October 02, 2004 - 7:24 PM
I used to resent it when pastors, when giving sermons on the pervasiveness of sin even in the lives of Christians, would offer their road rage as an example of how sinful they were. It seemed like such a trivialization of the "real" sins that the rest of us were dealing with -- greed, envy, lust, hatred, idleness, idolatry, etc.
That attitude changed when I brought up the ageless Volvo to Pittsburgh, for the summer and now for this last semester at school. With the Volvo, road rage is inevitable; more often than not, it is the source -- and object -- of much of my anger. Put it in an environment full of incompetent drivers, horrendous road surfaces, and far too many uphills for my low-torque, seven-donkeypower "car" to handle, and what you have is a real appreciation of the seriousness of road rage and, well, also another sin for me to deal with. Super.
In retrospect, it's scary to recall some of the thoughts that ran through my mind during these bouts with road rage. I never knew I was capable of such angry, violent images and expressions. Depravity of man, I tell you. Biblical theology come to life, for sure.
Luckily, being that I'm busy with school for most of the week, I don't drive my car around too often. Still, whenever I have to drive, let's just say it's usually not something I look forward to. Yes, having a car is convenient in times of need and definitely something I'm grateful for. And there are times when I enjoy driving with the windows down, listening to my music, checking out all the fly honeys who are checking me out in my hot ride -- ok, maybe not, but two out of three ain't bad -- but these occasions are far outweighed by unpleasant episodes on the road.
This might be the first time ever in the history of modern civilization that these words are being written, but I actually miss driving in New Jersey. Yes, I said it.
Permalink - 3 Comments
Ambivalence
Friday - September 17, 2004 - 1:49 AM
Three weeks into the school year, my sentiments are now starting to crystallize. Unfortunately, what I'm finding is that nothing prevails above any one emotion, that life as a ninth-semester undergrad is full of ambivalence of a different kind than in previous years.
Every other year, the feelings stay within the range of expectation. Think about it: from freshman year, which are both full of sadness at leaving behind the comforts of home and full of excitement at starting a new life, to senior year, where we experience the sadness and excitement yet again, to the years in between, the major themes are generally written out for us, and we're just going through the motions. Super seniors, there seems to be no mandate on how or what to feel.
Right now, I'm feeling a whole lot of regret for things both great and small. Five minutes ago, I felt excited at the thought of somebody out there offering me a job. The other night, I was exasperated at the sight of problem sets and lab write-ups.
Frustration is kicking in. There's no prevailing thought carrying me through the days and weeks. It's as if I'm living my life aimlessly in these final months, just wanting to make the days go by without caring or trying too much. To care or try too much seems like too futile an endeavor. And yet, I feel guilty for this carefree kind of living. No matter what I do, I feel like I'm in the wrong, and it's frustrating.
What am I supposed to be feeling? I certainly don't know. All I know is that I need something to give meaning to my days, to carry me, to power me through the ups and downs until that fateful day in December when this ride finally comes to a stop.
Permalink - 6 Comments
Once More, With Feeling
Monday - August 30, 2004 - 2:25 PM
I have a little more than an hour until my first class of the fall semester -- my last one at Carnegie Mellon, knock on wood. I'm finding myself feeling a whole lot of nothing. And this lack of feeling anything significant is making me restless, more than anything else.
I'm not exactly nervous. God knows I've been through this routine for quite a while now, with this time marking one semester too many, by my count. Neither am I excited. Again, because it's all nothing new; the novelty of buying horrifically overpriced books at the campus bookstore, counting with just one hand how many -- or few, if you're the glass half-empty type -- attractive classmates I have, and vowing myself silly that this will be the semester to overachieve academically has clearly worn off.
So the only lucid thing resonating now within this grizzled veteran of the college routine is -- in the ever-wise words of the Black-Eyed Peas -- "let's get it started." Ready or not, I'm just eager to get into the flow of the semester, to be overwhelmed and frustrated with responsibility, to be busy with something, anything, basically to not be so bored as to wonder aloud what it is that I am or am not feeling about starting yet another semester of this now-prolonged undergraduate career.