yesterday was both wonderful and agonizing.
i think, by the end of the night, i'd made up my mind. i found support in two of my favorite places -- my grandmother and my best friend.
my gramma surprised me by really listening to me and objectively considering what i had to say. i know her real wish is for me to settle down with a house, husband, and 401k. i tried to explain that pursuing this is me settling down. i can't have those things without first dealing with my internal turbulence. i talked to her about the healing aspect of this and how maybe, just maybe, i might be looking for God, too. i don't want to get her hopes up. more than the nuclear family, what she wants for me is to believe. she seems relieved that i was baptized at one point, that i am saved. i asked her, very carefully, how to talk to God. even here, it's hard for me to say "pray." she was surprised, but ready. first, i should say the Lord's prayer. i started to rattle it off, amused that after all these years it comes back so quickly, like the pledge of allegiance. she stopped me and we went through each line together, translating. after that, i should ask for forgiveness. then, i just talk. also, this should be done at least once a day, every day. a ritual.
there are some instruments at work that are set up to allow the manufacturer to upload information about it at any time. i assumed that a relationship with God would be similar. i mean, it's omnipotent, right? the connection is always open; God can see into my heart at any time, or all the time. last night, i realized that the purpose of prayer is not for God to hear me, but for me to hear God.
i've been distraught, to say the least, for the last few months. in the past couple of weeks, i've been thinking of heroin. i felt a strong desire to just give my life away to something because i don't seem to have the energy to manage it anymore. the first thing i thought of was dope. i could just float away, into nothing. straightforward suicide just isn't my bag, you know?
i told my best friend about this desire in a text message two days ago. this is particularly significant because she is a recovering junkie. i worried that it might hurt her to hear me say these things, but i am nothing if not honest. and really, she's the expert. she knows.
we talked on the phone last night about it, intermixed with my ideas of travel and and spirituality. of course, by then i knew i didn't really want to start shooting dope, but what was i trying to give away? then it just kind of hit me that people finding Faith describe their lives in those kinds of terms. they say, "let go, and let God," or more directly, "give it up to God."
we laughed at me, saying that we couldn't believe i'm thinking about these things, much less expressing them. sarah catton has been a bitter cynic for too long. i've done it with humor, sure, and people have been attracted to that scathing wit, but it's just exhausting now. and i don't really need it anymore. i don't need protection like i did when i was a kid. it's okay to be sincere; my feelings are not a target to be destroyed anymore.
i think, by the end of the night, i'd made up my mind. i found support in two of my favorite places -- my grandmother and my best friend.
my gramma surprised me by really listening to me and objectively considering what i had to say. i know her real wish is for me to settle down with a house, husband, and 401k. i tried to explain that pursuing this is me settling down. i can't have those things without first dealing with my internal turbulence. i talked to her about the healing aspect of this and how maybe, just maybe, i might be looking for God, too. i don't want to get her hopes up. more than the nuclear family, what she wants for me is to believe. she seems relieved that i was baptized at one point, that i am saved. i asked her, very carefully, how to talk to God. even here, it's hard for me to say "pray." she was surprised, but ready. first, i should say the Lord's prayer. i started to rattle it off, amused that after all these years it comes back so quickly, like the pledge of allegiance. she stopped me and we went through each line together, translating. after that, i should ask for forgiveness. then, i just talk. also, this should be done at least once a day, every day. a ritual.
there are some instruments at work that are set up to allow the manufacturer to upload information about it at any time. i assumed that a relationship with God would be similar. i mean, it's omnipotent, right? the connection is always open; God can see into my heart at any time, or all the time. last night, i realized that the purpose of prayer is not for God to hear me, but for me to hear God.
i've been distraught, to say the least, for the last few months. in the past couple of weeks, i've been thinking of heroin. i felt a strong desire to just give my life away to something because i don't seem to have the energy to manage it anymore. the first thing i thought of was dope. i could just float away, into nothing. straightforward suicide just isn't my bag, you know?
i told my best friend about this desire in a text message two days ago. this is particularly significant because she is a recovering junkie. i worried that it might hurt her to hear me say these things, but i am nothing if not honest. and really, she's the expert. she knows.
we talked on the phone last night about it, intermixed with my ideas of travel and and spirituality. of course, by then i knew i didn't really want to start shooting dope, but what was i trying to give away? then it just kind of hit me that people finding Faith describe their lives in those kinds of terms. they say, "let go, and let God," or more directly, "give it up to God."
we laughed at me, saying that we couldn't believe i'm thinking about these things, much less expressing them. sarah catton has been a bitter cynic for too long. i've done it with humor, sure, and people have been attracted to that scathing wit, but it's just exhausting now. and i don't really need it anymore. i don't need protection like i did when i was a kid. it's okay to be sincere; my feelings are not a target to be destroyed anymore.
