I woke up this morning at 10:10, church is at 10:30 and I made it there at 10:29:30. Such is my life of skimming in at the last second.

I wasn’t going to go to church, and then I remember myself promising to myself that I wouldn’t miss church this week - so I kept my promise. The sermon this week was about the meaning of the Lord’s Prayer, and why we say the words we say when we say them. I’m glad the subject came up, since every single time I have said the Lord’s prayer since going to this church, I have said “trespasses” and everyone else said “debts” and I felt weird having messed it up AGAIN. In the sermon today I learned why we say it and what it means and I’ll save all that for Pastor Scott to tell if you if you are curious. What matters here is during this sermon I drifted off into la-la-land (as I’m sure many people do even if they don’t want to) and began to question why I do things.

Am I rambling? It’s hard to write about a “stream of conscience” event without rambling because our consciences really do ramble most of the time. I digress.

Why do I do the things I do? Why do I work? Why do I pay bills? Why do I clean the house? Why do I eat what I eat? How did all of these things end up being the sum of what I call “life?” And what if I wanted to change them? If I change one of them, does it change who I am? Is it even possible to define “who I AM?”

I ask these questions because I’ve seriously been spending time lately contemplating my place on this planet. I have a job that I love, I have a partner that I love, I have family and friends who care about me and I care about back… but I still somehow feel displaced. It’s as if I was picked up, moved into a spot that doesn’t quite fit and left to figure out what to do about it.

This isn’t all that God has in store for me. There is more. I know it, I feel it, I want to experience it.

I just don’t know what the “it” is just yet.

Perhaps I am blinded by fear of failure.

Perhaps I am hindered by my lack of direction.

Perhaps I am staring at the “it” right now and don’t even know “it.”

Perhaps I am spending too much time worrying about “it.”

Maybe the “it” is just this… the wonder, the curiosity, the drive to find answers, to solve questions and to be in the inquiry.

So why do I do what I do when I do it when there are plenty of other things to be done?

Because I’m afraid to do what there is to do, that I don’t want to do, because “it” might have me realize that what I have been doing has been the wrong thing all along.

Confused?

Me too.