Separation

Loneliness is something the Christian knows all too well. For me, the darkness abounds in times of joy. During tribulation I fear no sword, but the day to day life is my burden.

Maybe my day to day is unlike the rest of the worlds’. I started this post during a desert thunderstorm cutoff from the world (and power.) I picked up this sentence here while gazing out the window reviewing the vastness of Texas. On Tuesday I will be in my forth timezone in 2 days. My day to day is like the weather, all you can do is make an educated guess what will happen.

When I think about it, maybe the test of normalacy is the one thing I do not know how to live. Speed kills, except for my life where speed keeps the facade alive.

This is all in line with one my favorite will-be-Saint, Mother Theresa. When her journals came under scrutiny for her “lack of faith” I could not hold back my smile. Christianity is one of the few religions that celebrates the separation of man and deity. As it should. This flies directly in the face of  existentialism that says we are all one thing. We exist of shared matter. Mother Theresa was joyful despite her struggle because she wrote of her struggle. What does the existentialist celebrate in life? They can only celebrate the misery of the world for at the end of the day that is all we share on this plane of existence. The Christian on the other side can celebrate not the misery of similarity, but rather the eventual leaving of it.

The problem for the Christian, and ultimately my own despair, is moving beyond it. Reminding myself that I am more than the dirt. I am living with the hope of dying a Saint. Right now that goal is unattainable, but if God so blesses me to be one I wonder what the world will think of this blog. Will my struggle and ultimate sinful lifestyle discredit my holiness or serve to expound the objectification of words? To the world of my children who may read this: in my struggle there is joy.

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