Chills run, as if they were the very blood in my veins. I take a breath in, but it is staggered, and I can’t help but feel worried. My mind tells me I should get a blanket, as my toes turn blue, but my body doesn’t seem to follow orders.
I can’t help but dwell on the plane ride home. The feeling of being crammed between two individuals, who up until the day prior were complete strangers, as they try to sleep next to me. The feeling of the mind wandering, unable to streamline even a single complete thought. My hopes, dreams, fears, and character flaws, all co-mingling to suffocate me. Can they tell I can’t breath? I wanted so badly to disappear, or the plane to land so that I could stop fidgeting in my seat. It was as if I was on a stage for the whole world to see, as I tried not to wake my companions, amidst a crisis of the self.
I’m settling back into… Into what? Hiding from who I am? Trying to avoid arguments with people? Being a theological phony? I feel myself closing off – it’s becoming increasingly apparent as I lay on this couch hiding from all responsibilities and relationships – I can’t pretend anymore.
Am I like Abram? Must I drop everything and follow you Lord? I’ve followed you here God, what am I to do next? I want your new. What have you to teach me next? Must it be patients: I believed the silence is over. You are breaking me, and I want more of you.
… But this is all so tough.
If I could get back on that plane I would in a heartbeat. Planning for the future is easy, living in the present is anything but, and moving forward feels like the staggered breath I still can’t get out.
God give me the strength to get off this couch and wake up to a new day. I want to be a living sacrifice, authentic and willing to serve you.