Fortune's Fools and Faith

"Self love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting." - William Shakespeare

"I never sat in the company of revelers, never made merry with them; I sat alone because your hand was on me and you had filled me with indignation. Why is my pain unending and my wound grievous and incurable?" Jeremiah 15:17-18

I begin with a quote from one of my personal journals:

Me, I think I bring most miseries upon myself. I am afflicted with a sore sort of accidental deliberateness, a recklessly intentional chaos that I inflict on those I most dearly wish to preserve in my life. My desperate fear of missed opportunity propels me head-first into shallow water; as I prepare myself with each leap for a fathomless dive, each impactful collision with the bottom of the well hurts with more profundity. Yet, I still seem insatiable - stubbornly brutal, training myself to believe the tender bruising of my spirit is simply the way life feels on a writer's soul. Is it so? Am I inclined to greater sensitivity - or perhaps feebler defense against the vastness of reality - because of my poetic heart? I long to be included among the great wounded souls forever commemorated on the pages yellowing in libraries forgotten, but how much in life must I yield to achieve this?

I wrote this entry about two months ago. I have often been consumed by similar thoughts; the myth of the writer's passion intrigues me. Many times I have responded to an occurrence with radical emotion, much to the confusion of those close to me. As I become more invested in writing, I realize how much more some things matter to me than to everyone else. Obviously, the notion is not completely exclusive, but those I've found to empathize are also writers. I still fall victim to these thoughts sometimes, confounded by the lack of response in others: How can it be that they do not feel these things like sand in their veins? How can they not scratch at the surface of their skin, attempting to dig the dirt out of their souls and thus refresh their hearts' peace? Sometimes, I am so bothered by an instance (and the lack of reaction from others) that I am inclined to feel guilty for my emotions - guilty for feeling something.

With God, I have been exponentially better at handling these emotions, and the pendulum rarely swings as dramatically. Some days, however, such radical emotions creep upon me like the ant I don't notice on my leg until it gets to the sensitive skin under my knee. I haven't a clue where they come from or what ignites them, but once lit, they burn in my core until I spew them to an unfortunate confidante (I take this moment to thank God for my wonderfully patient friends!) in a torrent. Most of the people around me, however, seem to be very much in control of their emotions; therefore I feel near barbaric for desiring to let my moodiness saturate through my soul for even a moment. I often attempt to conceal these moods - I most often am a joyful person, and thus feel, in some social circles, I am only allowed or expected to feel joy. Alas, I am human, and do have fallible moments in which my own shortcomings and those of others bother me explicitly. Why do I feel as if I am one of few who possess these moods?

After expressing my anger to a friend (thank you Cougar Tulip!), I promptly felt uncertain of it. Am I allowed to feel this way? Is my frustration sinful? I, thankfully, felt compelled to ask God what He thought of it - I asked Him to be my fingers and walk through the Bible to what He wanted me to see. He led me to Jeremiah 15:15-20, partially quoted above. I immediately related to the above quote about sitting alone because of convictions and feeling incurably wounded. The passage goes on, however, to describe submitting to God and being revitalized to become a faithful servant; it encourages me to spend my energy on worthy pursuits, not futile rage. It reminds me that my strength is in my King and no one else, and that I will be able to withstand all that angers me if I trust and serve the Lord. So, while I am able to say, "Lord, you understand" (verse 15), I am simultaneously cautioned not to heed my anger as a motivating force and to return my heart to God. In trusting the Lord, I am relieved of my constricted emotion and free to let my convalescing soul revel in my Savior's glory. Praise be to Him who understands our humanity and liberates us from the confines of devastation! This, my friend, is true joy.

"Therefore this is what the Lord says: 'If you repent, I will restore you that you may serve me; if you utter worthy, not worthless, words, you will be my spokesman. Let this people turn to you, but you must not turn to them. I will make you a wall to this people, a fortified wall of bronze; they will fight against you but will not overcome you, for I am with you to rescue and save you,' declares the Lord." Jeremiah 15:19-20