Even me

Life doesn't explode with a bang that leaves me holding the shambles... often, anyway. Life doesn't wow me with its amazing properties on a daily basis so much as it just, well, passes. It doesn't pass by completely uneventful or unsatisfying; but it could be more. I could be more. So much more. At least that is what I've based my passion and hunger on all these years. And what I've come to realize is that, no matter what philosophy asserts plausible alternatives to this idea (that I can be so much more), I can no more separate myself from that belief than I can lose myself.

Life is not incidental or coincidental. It is not meaningless and random. This I know.

But here's what I hate: I am not yet what I want to be. And at times, that reality is so thoroughly disconcerting and so intensely upsetting that I want to abandon the pursuit of meaning. To keep pressing on toward a goal that seems to elusive... to reject sin that seems so benign... to consistently fly in the face of my own better judgment with a lifestyle of self-renunciation and "faith"... these are the things that hold me back, urge me on, and leave me in an unsolvable conundrum of duplicity and confusion.

But this I know.

I want to be so much more than an average everyday. I want to be so much more than a churchgoing "christian". I want to be so much more than a good person. I want to be so much more than nice and pleasant... I want to be vehement, I want to be emphatic, I want to be passionate... I want to be peaceful, I want to be confident and I want to be saved.

I know who will save me.
But it is he who horrifies me...
And offers me this life that,
Well, seems impossible.

"With God all things are possible."

Even me.