Same Old, Same Old.

So, it’s finals week, and I’m hopelessly behind due to procrastination.

This has been a rough couple of weeks.  The car accident two weeks ago jacked everything up.   Jacked up my financial situation (which wasn’t great to begin with), jacked up my moving home plans, jacked up my attempts to recover from my depression.   The thing that really killed me about the accident was that it was the first day I got motivated to go to work in two months.  I’ve been really, really, REALLY depressed since about Thanksgiving.  It’s made everything I do a complete chore, even simple things like getting out of bed.  Add to that already volatile state the decision I was trying to make about moving home, being far away from Britt and family, and I was in a bad way.  I actually had some people close to me ask me to seek professional help.  So I do the responsible thing, I start trying to figure out ways to help myself get motivated.  I remember why it is I love being alive, even though it sucks sometimes.  I remember what I’m working for.  I remember my financial situation.  I decide to go substitute teach.

I get through the day, even though the teacher left me no lesson plans to speak of, and I put up with a bunch of surly middle schoolers who think that they’re God’s gift to everyone.  The thing I hate about subbing is that there is no connection to the kids at all.  The reason I love teaching is the relationship building, but as a sub, you’re a mercenary, a place holder.  You’re a number who the kids you teach on any given day will never see again.  I hate subbing.  But I got motivated to do it that Monday.  And I got through it.  And I’m on my way to school for a night class, when some moron runs a red light, and I don’t see the car in front of me stopping to yield to the jackass who ran the red light, and BOOM! $2800.  Like I have that kind of money right now.  The reason I was moving home was to try to pay off debt, and now, through trying to do the responsible thing and go to work to make money, I’ve made the situation worse.

I can’t tell you how discouraging that was.  I was just starting to pull out of the depression.  Just starting to feel good about stuff again.  I was feeling good about my ability to get through it and get stronger.  And then, just as I’m crawling to my knees, the death blow.  *shakes head*  Not good.  Not good at all.  On top of that, the job I thought I was moving home to take was filled without so much as a call of explanation from the person who said that I should “definately send in an application, and I’ll get you an interview.”  So much for that.  *washes hands of entire thing*  I had to call to find out that I wasn’t even being considered.  Forget it.

But I had a doctors appointment a couple of weeks ago, and apparently, I have ‘options.’  Apparently, it’s ‘common.’  There is “no shame” in it.   Bleh.  I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

So I finish this stint in Colorado at Seminary tomorrow.  Between now and then, I have to preach a sermon that isn’t yet complete.  I have to write 3 papers.  And then I have to take a Greek final.

After that, it’s a cinch, just a flight back to Wisconsin for a job interview that I desperately need to nail, despite the feeling I have that this might be what I end up doing, which suits me just fine.  I’m actually pretty excited to give this job I’m interviewing for an honest go.  Of course, when I get home, I get to see Britt.  I get to see my family.  I get to see friends I’ve not seen in a couple of months.

I don’t like being the beacon.  I don’t like being the leader.  I never have.  I want to live a quiet life, where no one is judging everything I do.  I don’t want to be the one everyone turns to.  But I look around, and either no one else will, or the people who are willing can’t do it.  And so I plod along.  And somehow, when the job of being the shoulder to cry on or the one to turn to arises, I always find myself volunteering to do it.  And it’s never as bad as I imagine it will be.  I just can’t stand to see people hurt the way I do.  I can’t solve my problems, but I know ways to get people to think about solving theirs.  And I keep trying.   One of these days, perhaps, I’ll finally get it right, just for an instant, and I’ll catch up to where I think I should be.   I know it’s possible.   I’ve been just a fingertip from it before, by the grace of a merciful God.   If I trust Him, I will make it there, someday.  This life will be redeemed all the way out.  Hasten the day.