For three weeks, after my very short missions trip to St. Louis, where I "encountered" God everyday in study, quiet time, service, worship, and just about every moment, I was in a season of utter "Bleh." Back to reality, like the Eminem song. Oh, there goes gravity. Numbness, again, because I fear that any abrupt movement might tear my fetal heart. So I stay still, very still. Routinely going about the day. Sleepless nights, wakeless days. Sitting in class, looking forward to the light buzz I'll find at home to ease my nothing. Sitting in class, distracted, but hearing about addiction and depression and disorder like a stuck track. No I'm pretty sure I'm not addicted. Depression, it's the common cold of psychological illnesses anyways.
I was very quick to judge. I was defensive. I doubted people's genuine-ity and care. I wanted to be alone. I wanted people around me to drown the mosquito pangs of my rampant thoughts. I wanted to keep busy. I wanted to sleep. I couldn't sleep. I wanted this season to pass without going through the soul-purging process of taking sin out of my life.
I take a step back and look at my life and I can't help but think, 'What the eff' did I do?' Numbly, I go home for my mom's baptism. Dad tells me I'm throwing my life away in my major. We argue. I dared to say that he is disappointed in me as a daughter because I can't repay the debt I owe in exchange for everything he and mom had given me. I accused him of conditional love. I accused our relationship of being like that of a bank and a borrower. Return with interest. Return this debt with my own life. I told him the pressure of them giving me their everything is too much.
I am killing my parents. They are crying out, begging me, bargaining with me to at least double major in something 'worthwhile.' "What are you going to do with social work? Are you planning on marrying a rich doctor?" The more they ask, the more I feel tugging at me.. no I don't want to do social work, I want to do ministry. That would break their hearts even more, wouldn't it?
If I had an infinite amount of material wealth, my first thing to do is to pay off my parents' mortgage. I would pay off their debts. Then buy them nice things: house, car, hacky sacks, new clothes so mom doesn't have to wear hand-me-downs from our bourgeoisie relatives. So everyone in the family can shut the eff' up and stop looking down on others. Then I don't need any of the wealth. Just give it all to them, so I am free. I can live my life and they know that I have received their love and I am truly grateful. I can bring them early retirement, take the work from them. Oh how sweet. But the fact that my mom knows Jesus as savior is an infinite times better than that. So I'll choose that over infinite material wealth any day. And for my dad, too.
