Feeling Stressed

It's hot. It's humid. My room is a mess. I have no place to put everything. I need to get a reliable car soon, but that's looking like an impossibility. Did I mention it's humid? I feel like a mist of soda pop has been sprayed on me and has dried. I stick to everything. The clutter in my room is driving me mad. There is so much I want to get rid of—desperately need to get rid of. I want to get a camera so I can take pictures of stuff and put it on eBay and Craigslist, but I am preparing to go on a trip and have drained my checking account on equipment. So this, too, is an impossibility at the moment.

I need to get away. Thank the Lord I'm leaving in two days. For the first 13 years of my life I lived in the country. It was home, and it still is. It’s where I know I belong. But we moved to the city 7 years ago, and I do not have the means of moving back. As of late I am realizing more and more that I was never meant to live in the city. The constant and unrelenting hustle and bustle is hard on this simple guy. I can look in all directions and see people, and houses, and cars. Even on the quietest of mornings I can hear the road noise--cars, buses, trucks, sirens. The city never rests, it is never calm, and it never takes a break. There are many times when I desperately need silence, and a place to go to feel alone—a place I can call my own. Even in my own home, and in my own room, I don’t feel comfort, because in reality it really belongs to my parents. And the fact that my room is so disorganized throws my mind into chaos. And unfortunately our entire home is like that. Since we moved into it three years ago, we have been working to remodel it, but the progress has died, and we are to the point where we simply live with things as they are—walls aren’t finished, rooms aren’t painted. I can’t help but get the feeling I will never live in a normal, finished house. I know that things will never change around here unless I do something about it. This summer I’m gonna have to get my act together and try and get stuff done around here. Hopefully this trip will help set my mind at ease. I know I sure can use it.

My Feelings About Church...

I haven't been to church for like 2 1/2 months. This has been due largely to the fact that I got a job and have been working every Sunday. Also, though, it’s because I haven’t wanted to go. But as bad as I kind of feel for not being at church for so long, what makes me feel worse is the fact that it really hasn't bothered me.

I'm pretty sure I will never be able to put into words exactly how it is I'm feeling, because I think there are just so many different reasons and causes that it would take forever. But let me try.

I believe in God. Let me just throw that out there right now. I will always believe in God. But right now I feel like I’m in a rut. I need to find him on my own time, and on my own terms. My entire life I’ve grown up going to church almost every Sunday. I’ve been taught to pray. I’ve been taught to be good, do what’s right, obey the rules, that sort of thing. It’s like I’ve been programmed to do things automatically. But I guess that’s what a parent’s job is, to teach you to do things so they become healthy habits when you’re on your own, so that’s not so bad. But I’ve also always been taught that at some point your religion has to become your own. You can’t do it simply because that’s what your parents do, or that’s just what you’ve always done. It has to become real in a way that you understand why it is you do what you do. It can’t be just a routine. Otherwise it becomes a vain tradition and it has no meaning. The only way it can have value is if you do it because you want to. You do it not because it’s expected of you, but because you know it’s right. That’s what I want. I want my religion to be real; I want it to be mine.

I think...