Remembrance

I visited Sally yesterday, and we talked about some things that I realized I really wanted to write down. I could write them in a journal, I suppose, but my possessions aren't known to be very well cared for--when they even exist. I just threw away stacks of old papers and things yesterday without even weeding through for the good stuff. It's not that I get stressed about having so much extra stuff; I just don't see much purpose in it. It's possible I threw away some notes to myself and notes from friends. Perhaps I did toss some good reminders without affording myself the opportunity to be reminded. While talking to Sally yesterday, she started a lot of sentences with, "I so often forget..." and followed with some constant Truth from Scripture. Because for us thinkers and analyzers, that's what we do most often: forget Truth.

That's been the most important part of blogging for me. I can get my words and thoughts out quickly, and they're very easily stored in a place where I can't crumple them up in a wad of old school assignments and toss them away. As a disorganized person by lifestyle, I do lose things and forget to do certain things somewhat frequently. My disorganized lifestyle extends to my spiritual life as well. There is little organization to my communication with God and to my understanding of the things he tries to teach me. I can read his promises in Scripture and five minutes later find myself lost in doubt. Somewhere inside of me, there is a lack of connection and communication that keeps me from holding onto the promises that "I so often forget."

Sally pointed out something interesting about our analytical type. She said the only fix she has discovered for getting out of the mind-stirring effect of over-analyzing everything is to finally pour it all out into others' lives. Often times I feel really selfish for wanting to be around people all the time, and I tiptoe around my introverted family and roommates, trying not to force them to be those people I use for my mind dump. It's not that I am unloading heavy burdens all the time, but my mind is an ever-discerning machine. It churns out ideas and theories and concepts and questions and hopes and fears, but when those have nowhere to go, they start to rot and spoil my brain. Basically, my brain desperately needs people. It just does, so the most difficult environment for it to be in is going to be a place like Mathews where there just aren't many people. As life goes, I currently stand at a sort of impasse where I can't know which route is the right route: to get out of a place like Mathews and go to a place like Chattanooga where there are more opportunities for my mind to thrive and explore and live up to its greatest potential or to stay in a place like Mathews and learn to train my mind to function purposefully in a new and possibly better way. I wonder how much God wants me to follow my passions and indulge the most obvious, easy joys in my life versus how much he wants me to stretch myself and my perspective on who he is and his sovereignty over the things I can't understand. I see purpose in both directions, so I've found myself rolling with the beats. I've been invited to stay in Chattanooga for a while, and I can so that's what I'm doing.

I don't think it's supposed to be a matter of Chattanooga being a right or wrong choice. I can't predict what God knows to be right or wrong about my future experiences. I'm just going to jump in and do this, working toward a remembrance that these things do work toward God's plan and purpose even in my darkest pits of doubt. If life really is all about remembering, maybe I should start plastering pages of the Bible all over my walls, but to refrain from surrounding myself with tacky decor, I should instead work harder on plastering them all over my heart.