TMI?

Do you ever have those moments where after you've been through them, you realize that they caused a massive ripple effect that upset the serenity of your mind, just as if a boulder was dropped into a kiddy pool? I had one of those moments yesterday, nothing dramatic, but a few things happened that caused a torrent of thought that I find impossible to stem. Not that this is a bad thing, mind you.

My mind's been racing about all kinds of things, after, (of all things), a concert I attended last night in Detroit. Who would have thought that a performance of a trombone concerto, followed by Brahms's First Symphony, would cause my mind to roil about everything under the sun?

Can I sum up my thoughts? I wish I had the confidence and strength of faith to echo the words of Julian of Norwich: "All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well."

I'm not there, by any stretch of the imagination.

I had an ironic revelation today about my faith and trust in God. (I find myself recoiling that I'm even typing this. There's something for me that's icky--and icky is the right word--about writing about God-stuff.) I was thinking about my future today, and where it might take me, and Jeremiah 29:11 came to mind. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. 'Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."

At varying times in my life, that verse has given me great comfort and at others, great duress. Here's the rub: God has plans for my life. Does that mean they're the ones I want?

I'm not so great a Christian and believer that I'm ready to jump off the cliff into the open arms of Jesus and hope he'll catch me. I'd rather climb down the side, with a rope and harness, thank you very much. This is what dawned on me today: I don't want to trust my future to God, because I have too much invested in it.

Now there's a smoker right there, and it's kind of laughable. On one side: rational belief in an all-knowing God, who I believe with my rational mind knows what's best for me. On the other side: me, who has a clear idea of what God should think is best for me. Those two, I fear, are diametrically opposed, and they are continually at war within me. And of course, I know what I should believe.

"All will be well." But will I like it? I'm all about me, dammit.

There's the rub, once again. Giving lordship of my life over? Now wait a minute...not so fast!

I know all of this warring within me is something that I should just let go of. "Let go and let God."

Blech.

Let's get it all out in the open: this fear of God's will for my life (and that's what it is: fear), is primarily rooted in fear over who God wants my wife to be.

I can't get around this, and I would say for my entire life, there has been an underlying fear of whom God will choose to be my soul mate. I'd rather he not have any part in it, since the image that has been projected in my mind of whom this person would be is utterly unappealing to me.

This is a massive issue in my life, and has been there for as long as I can remember. Crazy, I know. Unlike most people, who find comfort in the fact that "God has someone in store for them," I break out in a sweat at the thought. I have an image of the "Godly woman" whom I'm supposed to love, and it's never the type of woman that interests me. It weighs very heavily on me.

"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?"

I've always expected the stone.

Or at least whole grain, fibrous bread, that's dry and unpalatable...but good for me.

Blech.

There it is, in all it's craziness: I don't trust God to bring me my soul mate, and I'd rather he not have anything do with it.

Doubting Thomas: that's me.

I figure he knows best, though. (ARGH!) I just wish he'd get on with it.

Better to have dry and stale bread than nothing.

Sigh.

And that's just one of the things bopping around this bald head of mine.