It not sunny but it's isn't raining. The pool is open and people are enjoying the outdoors on this fine Memorial day weekend. Somewhere north of here are crowded camp sites and the forests of Idaho smell of smoke and charred burgers. What could be more natural? We all need this three day weekend. I know I do. But I am not outside. I am in my living room flipping channels on the television and writing this blog.
I'm feeling a little low today despite the comfort of a break from work with no obligations. I feel insignificant. I think I know why. This weekend I have been exercising my mental muscles rather than my actual muscles. I allowed myself the indulgence of a mythical adventure series. You may have heard of it- Percy Jackson. These are quick reads. I can polish off one a day and have. I finished the fourth out of five books just last night. And although it peaked my senses and fed my imagination it has left me in ruins. See I love to read and always have, but for the longest time I have resisted getting into books. This is because when the story is over for the characters of the book it is also over for me. Whatever exhilaration I felt while reading the story, imagining I was there along with the hero, is gone. And everything real feels so ordinary.
Now the story of Percy Jackson isn't unlike my own. It is about a boy who discovers he is the son of one of the top three Greek gods- Poseidon. And as these stories go he finds himself with powers of his own, in the middle of an adventure- winging it, and making friends and enemies along the way. Now I obviously don't have super powers nor any defined quest to tend to but like Percy I do have holy lineage. I am the adopted daughter of the one true God, El Shaddai. El Elyon. El Olam.
So, I shouldn't despair that my life seems so small. But I am struggling. I want favor from my Father just as Percy struggles to find favor with his. At the same time however we fight to assert our independence and worth. Perhaps it is a lack of humility but I want something more than Sundays at home flipping channels. However, there are times that hanging out alone at home seems all I can handle. Besides, if I go off on an adventure, off into the unknown, wouldn't I perish? Or worse- give in to all the darkness in the world. I wonder if I already have as I sit here fighting with depression, inferiority, and loneliness; unable to reach out to others as I try to protect myself from getting hurt.
Books are wonderful escapes from reality but eventually their story comes to an end. But, for now, mine keeps going. I hope that one day I will devour my own journey with the enthusiasm and joy that I devour a book. I hope I can't put it down.
P.S. I realize that a lot of my blog posts have a melancholy twist. I thank you for letting me get my thoughts out and for your encouraging comments. I hope that even if my words seem sad that they may help you realize that if you ever feel this way, to any degree, you are not alone. Love and God bless.