I had this amazing post all set to go and started and maybe somewhere in a few days from now I might actually try finishing it. It was pretty good, a comparison of faith vs knowledge in connection with the things we have learned in class. Yes, it was a good one. Then I got a 15 minute phone call that has me so riled up that I can barely see straight. Nope, no finishing that warm, fuzzy post.
Backspace, backspace, delete, delete, delete.
Yet, I continue to write. At the moment, it is the safety net. Oh you would not believe the list of self-destructive things going through my head right now. This is where you pull the cord that makes the O2 masks in the plane drop down and you start sucking air to save yourself. Here that translates to sit, don't move, turn the radio up really loud to drown out the thoughts, and find something to externally focus on. Oh, and breathe. That seems to be a good thing to do. What was that said to me a while back, if I am breathing, I am winning. Just keep breathing, just keep breathing, just keep breathing.
In regards to that metaphor of throwing gasoline on the fire, here I am, standing in front of it with a 5-gallon bucket of fuel just daring myself to throw it on there. Of course, let's get the full picture here. This is the thoughts of "do it! do it! do it!" running through my head like a skipping record. Do it, throw it on the fire, watch the fire roar up, and then, staring at it, scream "burn you mother f*****, burn!" Did I note that I am a little emotional at the moment?
It would seem that I have identified a pretty powerful trigger for my emotions. Yes, it would seem that we have now uncovered the one thing that sits in the first place spot of the list. Heck, it may actually span like the top 5. I hate to admit it, yet there it is. No denying it anymore. Ok, so I will take a small step back from the raging bonfire, yet I am not letting go of my bucket anytime soon. I have enough strength to still hit the fire from here.
Let's talk about that fire. What does it represent? There is more than just one type of wood in that fire. A trigger, a frustration, a less effective choice, a weakness, a disbelief, a heartache, anger, hurt, disgust, resentment, defeat, disappointment, regret, and exhaustion. Quite the fire going. Some burn better than others, some burn for a long time, some burn out quickly, some keep smoldering from the heat of the others. I wish it would all burn to ashes and blow away, yet no matter how much fuel I continue to throw on it to destroy it, there are always pieces left in the end. It never goes completely away. It's a little unrealistic to think that it will, it is a part of me. To destroy it, is to destroy myself and we know that isn't healthy. Let's be honest, whether I throw my bucket on there or not, the pile is not going to disappear. Not anytime too soon at least. Especially when an element beyond my control has the power to relight it.
The fire is an ironic beauty. The colors of the jumping flames are
hypnotizing. The smell, intoxicating. I'd like to think that amidst the
destruction, there is healing going on too.
Maybe I need to quit trying to destroy it and try to just keep it contained. I think God is going to have to help me on this one.
For the moment, though, I will sit down and I will keep one hand on my bucket. At least until the voices quiet down.
