drain

I don’t know what’s going on with me. I’ve been off-kilter for the last two days. Thursday was a good day. Friday was not. Today was not. I’m supposed to come up with songs to sing tomorrow morning for church and I can’t. I don’t even know if I should be writing this because I’m supposed to have it all together. But no. That’s a lie. Someone who means a lot to me helped me figure that out. I don’t have to have it all together. But then I think of all those guidelines in Paul’s letters concerning leaders in the church and I have to remember that “avoiding the appearance of evil” is different from “never having struggles and always being happy.” Those were the people I couldn’t stand in church. I understand them, now. I judged them for a while, but this didn’t make me happier or better or anything, so I’m trying to stop. We all have reasons for doing things and often they don’t make rational sense. I don’t make sense.
I feel like I’m living the seventh chapter of Romans constantly. How far along was Paul into his ministry when he wrote that? That should be an encouragement to me, right? Here’s one of the most influential people of all time, and watch as he pens this chapter of brokenness. Wretched man that I am!
Ok.
I know what I have to do. My stomach churns to repeat platitudes, but I just have to do the next right thing. My dad and I had a discussion a few weeks ago in which he told me of this person who decided that every five minutes or so, he was going to ask himself the question, “Am I doing what is pleasing to God right now?” or some variation. I always know the answer to this question, and asking it as often as I do has been changing me.
But then there are days when I totally forget about all of it, when I start looking at the world longingly – the world in the Biblical sense – and when I come to I’m just so disgusted with myself. How can these things still be in my heart? WHY are they still in my heart? Yes, yes I know I’m still sinful and I won’t be perfect until That Day.
O Lord, hasten.
But that doesn’t change David’s sentiment that I resonate with so deeply: my sin is ever before me. And I know it’s not before God – Well may the accuser roar of wrongs that I have done / I know them all and thousands more, JEHOVAH FINDETH NONE. Ian, you’re forgiven. Ian, you’re forgiven. Ian, relax. Take the advice you so willingly give to everyone else. Take the next right step.
I’m keeping myself from including swear words in this post, and I’m not sure why. I’m starting to think they’re a bit… stumbly? is that the word? unnecessary? But they convey such emotion, and emotion is what I’m feeling right now. But I’ve gotten careless over the years and overused them, so I’m taking a break. I just don’t know why they’re called “swear” words. They aren’t swears. It’s not what the Bible is talking about when it says don’t swear. I mean, there are a few of them that can be classified as unwholesome talk, I think, but only when they’re actually taken literally, or used literally, and you know of which I speak…
Deep breath.
I also don’t know how great an idea it is to be airing all this online.
And here’s the other thing. I’m really tired of trying to sound smart all the time. I mean, some of what I write is written the way I actually speak, but other times – this is embarrassing – other times I’m getting on thesaurus.com and looking up words that sound smarter. I should be fair to myself: sometimes I’m also on thesaurus.com looking up words that make more sense than the ones I’ve used. I just mean that I read over what I’ve written from time to time and it sounds like I’m trying too hard. So, from time to time, I write things like this, where I don’t let my fingers stop moving across the keys. I write and write and write and let it come because I’m tired of trying to sound smart. I’m tired of trying to BE smart.
Why do I want so badly to be smart? to be intellectual? I don’t know! I really don’t. Most likely it’s an identity thing. Ian has to be this, this, and this, or Ian isn’t ok. And one of those thises is brilliant. But here it is, folks: most of the time, I’m not. I’m not smart at all. Believe me, I understand the difference between wisdom and intellect. And as far as intellect goes, I think I’m average. There it is. I’m average. I’m not that great. (I’m saying this for my benefit. I know you don’t need convincing.) I do things like spell out “et cetera” because… just because. Actually, no. I’m going to tell you why I spell out “et cetera.” It’s because I’m tired of hearing people pronounce it incorrectly – ecksetera. Just like Nick hates it when people say things like, “went missing.” Well, it’s not just like that, because “went missing” is nonsensical and “ecksetera” is just wrong.
And wisdom… let’s not go there, except to say that I desire wisdom these days far more than I desire intellect.
You can get wit dis, or you can get wit dat. I love that commercial.
Ok. I’m done.

P.S. That last bit was not a plea for affirmation, and if you comment on this with statements like “Oh Ian, but you are smart,” I’ll probably feel sick. Sorry if that’s rude. This funk I’m in will probably last until tomorrow morning, and then I’ll look back on this and think, “Wow, Ian. Get a grip.” So, apologies, et cetera.

(Boosh.)