I was going through an old email account today and had to sort by contacts to find the last time I got an email in that account from someone I actually knew. It was from exactly a year ago this month. It was some friends of mine that moved up north and email every once in a while. The next one after that was from '07. I know I've mentioned this before but I couldn't help but to think back to what I was doing this time last year.
I was making more money. I had a pretty sweet corporate gig. I was in a pretty good relationship. I was shopping for a new truck. I ate lunch at Whole Foods just about every day. Worked out semi-consistently. All in all, I thought I was in a pretty decent place. But the more I reminisce to that time, the more I remember feeling decayed inside. You ever see a piece of wood that is rotten inside? A lot of times you can't tell just by looking at it, but the minute you pick it up and try to use it as anything functional: a walking stick, a bow staff, whatever, it quickly disintegrates and crumbles under its own weight. You usually find these random sticks on the ground under the shadows of the live, strong, flourishing trees. It's the same type of wood, same composition, same family—just hollow inside. I felt like that this time last year. In fact the more I try to remember 'good times' from last year the more I recall times where I let somebody down, times where I stressed too much and times where I really felt like I had no clue what I was doing in life. Not that any of those things were in any way bad in my life, I just realize now how much I had placed them-all of them above the one thing that has ever brought joy in my life. Not ethereal, fading happiness founded in things and circumstances and day to day situations, but true, deeply-rooted, unwavering, persistent joy. See, somehow I lost sight and forgot that all of these things in my life were never meant to be the source of my joy, the source of my peace and security. They were all byproducts of the Source and my connection with my Source. In fact, I remember times when I would cry out to God in bed and wonder what was wrong with me? God, where am I deficient? Where am I missing it? Not that he didn't answer; I just didn't want to hear it. See, the luxury with serving an invisible God with unending grace is that when he nudges you to move is that you can roll over and fall asleep. My God loves me enough and has enough grace for me that it's like he gave me a mute button for him. Or sometimes it seems, at least a volume control.
So I went on doing what I was doing, still mostly unfulfilled and wondering why God wasn't answering. When all along it was me that wasn't listening. Again, I emphasize that not any of those things in my life were bad on their own merit. In fact, they were all very good things, the job is still one of the coolest I've had, the girl is still a great friend, and trucks, well trucks are still pretty sweet. What was off was my focus. I had slowly rearranged my life into a comfortable, dull existence that I was slowly becoming very uncomfortable and bored with. So little by little God had enough grace to budge me out of my uncomfortable comfort. I left the gig, bounced around for a little bit looking for a new "career." The relationship ended. And I quit wanting for more stuff in my life.
So now, I live in Burnet. Regularly put in 12-15 hour days. Took a significant pay cut (corporate talk for I'm broke). And have no clue what I'll be doing in seven months, let alone have a structured, operational 5-year plan. And I'm happy. Not just happy, but I found my joy again. See my joy never left, I just misplaced it. In a very real sense of the word, I misplaced my joy. So where am I? Figuratively speaking, I have no clue. Spiritually speaking? Right where I should have always been. Connected and operating with my God the Source of all I ever have or ever will need.
