Sunday, April 13, 2008

Revelations

I had a long conversation the other day with a very good friend of mine. We were sitting outside my apartment, illuminated only by the soft glow of a florescent light flickering outside a building across the way, discussing the nature of people - the things we feel we need to do, and why we feel obligated to do them. This talk of ours got me thinking. I thought to myself "Goodness, it's cold out here! Why didn't I bring a jacket down with me?" And after I thought that, I actually started paying attention to the conversation.

Why do we do the things we do? I asked that question in relation to myself that chilly evening, and found, in the swirling wind that surrounded my friend and me, that I did not entirely like the answer.

In making myself a model by which to answer this question, I had to evaluate...well...myself - and the things that I do. It was a riveting process. (Please note, sarcasm)

I thought of the many things I do out of simple obligation. I thought of the obligation to my parents - they raised and support me - I thought of the obligation to my friends - they love me when they don't necessarily have to - I thought of the obligation to my professors - they provide me with knowledge I will (in some cases) use later in life - I thought of the obligation to my bosses - they offer experience (and pay me) - I thought of the obligation to the nameless "they" who tell me I need all these things to be happy - and then I thought to myself, "If that light over there doesn't stop blinking I am going to have a seizure!" Then I thought (I think an awful lot, don't I?) that if all these obligations are to make me happy, why is it that I am anything but?

Granted, most people don't expect to enjoy this point in life. The climb can't always be as gratifying as the view from the top. But it's not just that I don't enjoy what I'm doing anymore; I don't particularly like who I'm becoming. Short-tempered, angry, and annoyed by the slightest thing, I am sleep-deprived, I am hungry, and I am weary of this life.

All of this has made me wonder (ha ha! not think, but wonder!) if fulfilling all these obligations is really worth losing myself.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Answer

"Since before I was born. Since before my ancestors were born. Since before the dawning of the Earth, my spirit has longed for yours.
We were together once. Before. In a heaven that transcended all human thought. Not for the splendor or unyielding happiness offered, but for the company we kept in Christ and for the companionship we found in each other, were we truly joyful.
Our separation - from that Eden and from each other - was the lament of angels. But our time apart left nothing to be desired. Still we were cloaked and protected by that unabstaining light of secret knowledge. Only now, now that our souls have met once again do we realize the dark, shrouded haze in which we wondered - each lost without the other. But no more. For now and forever, we are, at long last, found. What other name can be given to the grace bestowed upon us? What other name than amazing?
We have known pure, untainted, celestial joy in our heavenly home. With our departure came the knowledge and understanding of temporal, love - ethereal existence. Alas! We are bound no longer to suffer. For we are no longer two wandering spirits, but one consummated whole. And never again are we to be parted. For I have found you, and you me. We will depart from one another now, only in death. And even in death, we shall be reunited in our blissful heaven - our longed-for home. And there we shall remain until the days of His reign are ended.
An eternity.
My pledge to you.
Eternity."