Siiiiiiiiiiiigh~. Breathe Deep. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh~.
I'm just very worried about some personal matters at the moment. I don't know how they came about, I don't know what to do about them, and I don't even know if they're going to be permanent or if it's just a phase I'm going through again.
What do you do when everything's pointing in different directions? It's difficult to make any decisions in this state. I can't even concentrate on studying--not that I did anyway. I'd say I want advice, except I've already given myself plenty of that and it's not really helping me much.
Everything is blurry. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. Hopefully it'll all clear up sometime and I'll wonder what I was worrying about, but at the moment it just doesn't seem so. It's not at all nice. It's very worrying, that's all I can describe it as.
As you probably already have read, I'm supposed to be writing a theme song for the church camp at the end of the year, which means I've had to start hunting up obscure Bible verses and see if I can put a different spin on them. So far I've found two verses that seem to have potential.
One's from the apostle Paul, who wrote (when near death) that he had "finished the race". Another is from (predictably) Christ, who said that He was "the only Way to the Father". They look normal enough, but you see, here's the problem: in a race, there isn't more than one way. There's just the starting block and the finishing line, and there isn't much of a choice where you're going to go.
The possibility of having only one (correct) Way arises only if there are other (incorrect) ways--for example, if the race track had forks or junctions. But then if you (if you were running) didn't know which turn was right, then you wouldn't really be running the race anymore. You'd be, basically, running in a maze, albeit a rather simple one. Of course, if there were more junctions and forks and bends and the like, it would become less and less like a race and more of a maze. You could, of course, put up signposts and hand out maps (which would make it somewhat easier), and you could allow the runners to, say, get things which would make the race more enjoyable. However, it would remain a maze, regardless of whatever you did, for the runners.
The maze only becomes a race if you know where the finishing line is AND you know how to get there AND you actually get yourself onto the right track in the right direction.
It's kind of like my metaphor for life: there's what seems like a thousand different ways to go, and all of them don't seem to have any particular ending. Of course, there're guidelines and rules and suchlike to say what I'm supposed to do, but... it's all difficult to decide, especially for me, since I like to know exactly what to expect before doing anything.
In this race, of course, everybody moves at the same speed: one hour per hour. It's just the relative comforts of the racers that differs, and even that is constantly changing. The only thing that matters to me is: which one of the roads is the one I ought to take? I know where I'm supposed to finish up, and I've already left the starting block (to continue the metaphor): but right now I apparently have got lost in someplace the guidebook doesn't even mention. And I want out of it!
Now how do you get all that into a couple verses, one pre-chorus, and one chorus, without turning it into an epic poem or losing any meaning? I hate when I have to compress things because I always seem to end up leaving some important thing out, but then if I explain everything as fully as I want to, inevitably somebody gets bored and starts yawning--which sets off everybody else.
My dad, mum, kid brother, and kid sister left this morning for the Big S; they've been staying here for the summer holidays and apparently they accumulated a lot of things from the hotels they visited, which has all made its way into my hands. It was nice to see them again. But it wasn't nice to have to part again.
Still, they've all grown, especially the kid siblings: my kid brother especially has got very fat. I have a dire feeling he's going to wind up stronger then me, since he has all the basic material for a really buff body packed round him (no pun intended).
I won't be seeing them again, I think, until next year; my schedule is going to be quite packed even after the A-Levels are finished, what with choir practice and cleaning up the room and disposing of one-and-a-half-years' accumulated miscellaneous goods.
Never mind. I'm sure my temporary fogginess is just a phase I'm going through. Hopefully. Because I think I've been going through this phase for nearly six or seven years now and I still haven't got to the other end of the tunnel.
What do you do when everything's pointing in different directions? It's difficult to make any decisions in this state. I can't even concentrate on studying--not that I did anyway. I'd say I want advice, except I've already given myself plenty of that and it's not really helping me much.
Everything is blurry. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. Hopefully it'll all clear up sometime and I'll wonder what I was worrying about, but at the moment it just doesn't seem so. It's not at all nice. It's very worrying, that's all I can describe it as.
As you probably already have read, I'm supposed to be writing a theme song for the church camp at the end of the year, which means I've had to start hunting up obscure Bible verses and see if I can put a different spin on them. So far I've found two verses that seem to have potential.
One's from the apostle Paul, who wrote (when near death) that he had "finished the race". Another is from (predictably) Christ, who said that He was "the only Way to the Father". They look normal enough, but you see, here's the problem: in a race, there isn't more than one way. There's just the starting block and the finishing line, and there isn't much of a choice where you're going to go.
The possibility of having only one (correct) Way arises only if there are other (incorrect) ways--for example, if the race track had forks or junctions. But then if you (if you were running) didn't know which turn was right, then you wouldn't really be running the race anymore. You'd be, basically, running in a maze, albeit a rather simple one. Of course, if there were more junctions and forks and bends and the like, it would become less and less like a race and more of a maze. You could, of course, put up signposts and hand out maps (which would make it somewhat easier), and you could allow the runners to, say, get things which would make the race more enjoyable. However, it would remain a maze, regardless of whatever you did, for the runners.
The maze only becomes a race if you know where the finishing line is AND you know how to get there AND you actually get yourself onto the right track in the right direction.
It's kind of like my metaphor for life: there's what seems like a thousand different ways to go, and all of them don't seem to have any particular ending. Of course, there're guidelines and rules and suchlike to say what I'm supposed to do, but... it's all difficult to decide, especially for me, since I like to know exactly what to expect before doing anything.
In this race, of course, everybody moves at the same speed: one hour per hour. It's just the relative comforts of the racers that differs, and even that is constantly changing. The only thing that matters to me is: which one of the roads is the one I ought to take? I know where I'm supposed to finish up, and I've already left the starting block (to continue the metaphor): but right now I apparently have got lost in someplace the guidebook doesn't even mention. And I want out of it!
Now how do you get all that into a couple verses, one pre-chorus, and one chorus, without turning it into an epic poem or losing any meaning? I hate when I have to compress things because I always seem to end up leaving some important thing out, but then if I explain everything as fully as I want to, inevitably somebody gets bored and starts yawning--which sets off everybody else.
My dad, mum, kid brother, and kid sister left this morning for the Big S; they've been staying here for the summer holidays and apparently they accumulated a lot of things from the hotels they visited, which has all made its way into my hands. It was nice to see them again. But it wasn't nice to have to part again.
Still, they've all grown, especially the kid siblings: my kid brother especially has got very fat. I have a dire feeling he's going to wind up stronger then me, since he has all the basic material for a really buff body packed round him (no pun intended).
I won't be seeing them again, I think, until next year; my schedule is going to be quite packed even after the A-Levels are finished, what with choir practice and cleaning up the room and disposing of one-and-a-half-years' accumulated miscellaneous goods.
Never mind. I'm sure my temporary fogginess is just a phase I'm going through. Hopefully. Because I think I've been going through this phase for nearly six or seven years now and I still haven't got to the other end of the tunnel.
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