war.

and it hits.

I thought things were starting into the positive, and yes, they are -- but at the same time, it's almost because I've gone so far to actually "get it out" and talk about stuff, and that really long blog I posted just last night that more problems are hitting. Not really problems, but definitely issues... don't want to run, don't want to read my Bible, don't want to do any homework, almost don't want to go to Real Lif-- NO! I want to go! I DO want to read my Bible. But now I have to fight for it. I am sure that it will come more natural as it already has, but all the same, it's so difficult.

I have been sleeping so well in the last few weeks of term. I slept so poorly all of last term. But I've been sleeping so well-- until last night. I couldn't get to sleep, and then I argued and wrestled with my alarm clock and snooze for at least an hour this morning. I'm not exactly if it's the difference that I knew I wasn't going to run or spend my alone time with God, but instead had that Marketing Plan to finish that I had procrastinated the day before (when I wrote that really long post). But seriously. I could not sleep. I wasn't tired, it was too bright, too hot, too cold, itch here, sore muscle there, headache, need water, stuffy nose, need bathroom, hair in face, pillow too hot or too cold, blankets in a rumple. Nothing was right. The only way I was finally able to sleep was when I just realized maybe I needed to talk with God, and that something was making me that way and was trying to pull me back away from God - a place we're I've struggled so long to be! I've been able to live without things I used to constantly struggle with, or just give into and consider them simply a part of life - like picking my nose (a habit I have yet to master [or is it conquer?]... yes, sad but true I admit it), but it's really not. I don't ACTUALLY need that to live and be happy, I really don't. So why then? No idea... all a part of the temptations and traps I suppose.

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I lack the motivation to re-finish the post that I lost. Hmm... I wonder how that got lost?

It was going on about how I'm at WAR. LIke how John Mark said at The Way awhile back.

There was some part of me that didn't want to go to class, to read the Bible... to go for a run, to go to Real Lif-- NO!! I love Real Life! I WANT to go to RL!! It's almost as if there is a force working against me here. I had this really good post. But then blogger died... hmm, wonder how that happened, eh?

I'm seriously fighting here. Fighting hard. I have to push. Push hard. It's not fun. It's not pretty. It's horrible. Is it a necessary evil? Well, there's some form of evil, and it's necessary to get it OUT of my LIFE. I need to be FREE. I am not free from it. I still want to go to that site, think those thoughts, do that thing, go to that place, do this, think that, STOP. STOP it!!! NOW! Enough! It's war. It's begun. It's never been over. It's always been in motion. It's ugly. It's brutal. But it's been brutal to me, so it's time I returned the favor - whatever it was, took over my life and left me nothing to live by or for except that weird facade. Now I return the favor. I crush it to nothing. It must cease to exist.

I seriously wonder if it's because I have not only come forward with the realization of how my life has begun the change, but not just realized, thought about it, and spent a lot of time thinking about it, and talking to myself about it, and not only thinking to myself, but acting on it and with it and confessing it. I still talk in generalizations a lot, and I really hate myself for this. But it's a start. I have such a hard time getting into details with something that really gets to me. I'm either too excited about it, or too scared or otherwise emotional about it. But the fact that I'm actually pulling forward and pushing through and actually talking about this? Blogging a bit, but still... I really am talking about irl. Maybe not a lot, but at least some.

And it's kinda like, because I have gone forward and confessed this and am talking about it, and pushing it back, and have watched the fight go on for me, but now I have to pick up my sword (or cutlass, because they have cooler names), or whatever, because the battle has been won for me, but I must do my part and not wander, must not deviate from the plan, the mission, the ...my life.

It's funny to say this, but when I was asked about being afraid of bears when on a convention trip to Lost Lake back in 04 or something, I thought about it, and said the 'good lutheran answer' of not being afraid of it because God would protect me, or I would just go to Heaven, which is much better. Of course, I didn't understand what I was saying, I mean, I did, but not REALLY.

I've never really been afraid of much. Only within the last few years have I realized what it's really like to be TRULY afraid. And have I become a fearful person. Skittish at everything. Like a horse afraid of it's shadow, or a feral cat of a loving hand.

It was more apparent and present in my life how truly afraid of DYING I was last fall. I knew I was going to hell. There was no way I would go to heaven -- oh, maybe because I still "believed and was baptized" but nothing else. I've never been so afraid of dying. I was sure I'd get hit by a car, mugged, raped, list it on... I was afraid, because I knew I wasn't living the life I wanted to be living, I knew I was living the wrong kind of life. I knew I wanted to marry that "Good Christian Man" but I wasn't a good person myself. I knew this. I was sarcastic, mean, heartless, depressed, and so not living a good life. even though it was "the good life." I wasn't even keeping up with my homework, much less eating right - if I ate at all. It's almost like I really was starving myself. Because, well, I was. But was I starving for something else? Faith? God? not just the physical starvation... but in living that life, I was starving because I wasn't eating. But I think it could also be put in the sense that I was starving for God, but I didn't realize it - but I knew it. I knew I needed to get right with God. I knew He had judged me. I knew I was no different than the rest of everyone else.

I've never been afraid of dying like that before. I used to just take it for granted that I'd be saved. and that's that. But no. I knew I was in the wrong. I knew it was bad. It was THAT bad that I knew I was seriously going to die. and suffer eternal damnation. I was wishing - almost to the point of praying that the 2nd coming would not be soon so that I would still have time to get my life around... now I know what they mean. "I'll worry about it when the time comes" yeah, sure you can live the life you want or the 'good' life, whatever that is, but that doesn't mean you won't be afraid. Every. Moment. Of. Every. Day. I also understand what it feels like to really be lost. So lost that you don't even know where to go or what to do to pick up the pieces again. I mean, I even removed my "Live Pure" button from my bag that I got from Real Life at the start of fall term because I knew I was being a hypocrite, and also because I didn't want some people to see it. - yup, the wrong kind of people for me.

I will not say I was corrupted by any person, or by any one thing. But a combination of everything and being sucked into the trap of the lie. I won't even say that I was corrupted at all. That's a weird thing to say. I will say though that I am glad that as for now I have refused any part of that lifestyle for myself. I may say things, but putting them into practice is even more difficult. But I will keep fighting for it. I was lost. Completely lost. I didn't know what to do. So I just kept blundering on. I wanted out. But I didn't know how to get out. And it was too much fun. I didn't want out. Getting out meant getting hurt. I didn't want that pain - but I also knew of the eternal pain and hurt I would get, were I not to have temporary and light pain in comparison in the present.

But srsly. It's a fight and a struggle to motivate myself to go for a run. To get intimate and alone with God. To find meaning in the verses I'm reading, to really get into songs - to get into the right kind of songs.

I finally made myself go for a run today. I went outside because it was nice out. Donned the new running shorts I just got a Target, my old Shasta shirt from last year, running shoes, ipod, and headed out.

The complaints begin: Wow it's cold. My muscles hurt, I can't breathe. I have a sinus infection. My lungs hurt, it's cold. It's windy, maybe I should just go to Dixon Recreation Center. People are judging me. I'm not going to be able to go as far as I want. I have a long way to go. I have to up my distance today. I haven't run in awhile. I didn't miss a day, but I didn't really do the walking I wanted to do on Sunday because I was a bum...

But I ran, I didn't run the entire time like I'm sure I could have, but I ran farther than I have outside probably ever, which is awesome. I get back and shower. I don't usually turn on the radio, but I decided to. I switch it from the country station to the christian station because even though the dj's are annoying, maybe they'd play a good song.

Yup.

Half way through my shower "Hold My Heart" by Tenth Avenue North comes on. I break down in tears. I can't stand. I lean against the wall, I crumple to the floor. Water streaming over shoulder and then directly on my face. Misty spray falling all around. The curtain swaying in the blast of the water pressure and the fan nearby. My face turns hot - red hot. I can't see. I can't think. Sometimes I wonder if God puts things in order: Just Right. so that they fit in with the exact thing you need the most at that time. me? I needed that surrender. I managed to finish actually showering, but it took me longer than planned. And I just wanted to keep crying. It felt good. That exposure of emotions. That release. The heat of my face. The sweet and salty tears streaming down my face. Bare. Nothing to hide behind.

Maybe someone was out there, preventing me from posting that old post that I thought was good, but this is better. I maybe have stayed up an EXTRA FREAKING HOUR to repair it. But hey? If that's what it takes to fix life and to HAVE a life? I'll freaking DO it! I'll go that extra mile. No matter how many stitches I have in my side, no matter if I start getting blisters on my feet, or how painful my lungs are from sucking in ice cold air. I'll do it.

It's my life. I want it. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to live in fear. I... want to live.