Fill 'er up

Out of pity for my roommate, I cleaned my corner of the room yesterday. My other roommate is gone for the month, though, so she doesn't get my pity. I am currently using her bed as an extension of my desk. The items on it include a book I got for Christmas, a Bible study, some index cards, a letter I received last week, two skeins of yarn with two partially-crocheted stuffed animals, a hat, a sketchbook, Bananagrams, and my mittens.

I have been feeling like a slothful slug lately. A slogth, if you will. It is the kind of slogthfulness that wants to pretend it's being useful, but not really. "Let's work on that one drawing project. Oh, stuck? Well, let's crochet instead. Or, hey roommate, want to play Bananagrams?" I've been meaning to fix a button on my coat for ages, but I can't even get myself to procrastinate by sewing (which is weird) because it sounds vaguely productive.

We recently had quite a good chapel speaker, and one of the first supporting points he brought up in his message was that procrastination does not give rest. True rest can only be found in Jesus. If I know this, why am I having a hard time with it?

I've started to realize something as I try to catch up on Bible readings and square up my school life. Jesus isn't a gas tank, or an energy drink, or even an oasis. Doing life right doesn't look like a daily dose of Jesus. He doesn't simply work like fuel.

This isn't a criticism of "filling up on Jesus" via communal worship, Bible reading, or prayer. On the contrary, I think a better attitude about some of those things could help me. But reading the Bible every day won't automatically make my relationship with God better.

What does this have to do with me being lazy?

The more I type this, the more I feel like pretty much everything. I had no idea Jesus was going to make an appearance in this post until the following Bible verse popped into my head after I wrote the first two paragraphs:

I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. -- John 10:10, NKJV

My life doesn't look like that often. Abundant looks like a life overflowing with fruit, not a bed overflowing with discarded distractions. Jesus isn't supposed to occupy my time. He's supposed to occupy my life. I don't think Jesus is the fuel so much as the combustion chamber, or maybe the combustion itself.

Combustion doesn't necessarily sound restful, but it does sound like a good way to dislodge slogths. I think I'll try it.

I suck at loving people

I guess the title of this post isn't completely true. I don't suck at loving everybody. Some people make it easy. There are a few people who make it very, very hard. Most people, though, are in the middle, which means I can't blame everything on them -- how I feel about them is up to me.

I've heard many people say that love is an action, not just a feeling. But if you love somebody in deed while at the same time you really wish you could just poke their eyes out, shove them off a cliff, and sprinkle them with shark bait, what does that mean?

I really don't know. I suppose it would be an exercise in self-control, which is a good thing. But that's not really the point.

At college, I don't have a problem getting along with others. There are so many people filled with the love of God I feel that if the world could just see them all at work, every heart would belong to Him. I am drawn to all the people who look like Jesus. Among those people, I feel at my best. With their influence, I have an easier time loving others.

When I was in high school, though, I pretty much kept to myself because I didn't want to talk to anybody. By the time I graduated, I had a few close friends, but often I would hang by myself at social events I had to go to and avoid the ones I didn't. I could be friendly on an individual basis, but on the whole I did not exhibit any sort of love, Godly or no.

I maintain that there's a difference between being introverted and not loving. A few days ago, when I told my younger brother I didn't want to go hang out with people, he actually said, "Read your Bible. We're supposed to love others."

(I used self-control and no shark bait on my brother that day.)

Extroverts can suck at loving others as much as I do. At least I hope so. It just seems unfair otherwise.

There's verse upon verse that tells us to love each other -- each other being Christians, I believe. But we're also supposed to love as Jesus loved, and Jesus loved everybody, in heart and in deed. Even when he wasn't surrounded by people who made it easy for him. Even when he was tired. Even when what's-his-face was being loud and annoying.

What this means for me is that I've got problems when it comes to being like Jesus. Because trying to love someone I don't is like having my eyes poked out, being shoved over a cliff, and sprinkled with shark bait.

And that really sucks.