A Dark Night Time

Well, I pretty much hate Louisville, KY right now. (I'm a bit too honest maybe). I don't know why I came here or where I could've gone otherwise. But here's where I am. I'm in this weird big city just tryin' to make a buck to live on. This is a far cry from where I imagined I'd be 10 years ago. I'm incapable of doing the things I dream, and bored with what I can handle. I'm afraid to commit to service to others and fed up with living for myself. I'm lonely without community, but glad I don't affect them or infect them with this negativity. I'm too old and out of options to be trained for anything new, but not good enough at anything to be good for anything. But it's not Louisville, KY. It's the girl who lives here that's the problem. And it's probably a good idea for me to learn how to be a blessing to this place rather than adding to its problems.

I work with Bobby, a bright 17 year old with his life ahead of him. He's thinking about moving out and being independent. Bobby has already been disillusioned by the church (what's new). Bobby has decided he's just gonna live a good life because he's offended by the idea of hell. And knows he can't beat it. I told Bobby that Jesus exemplified all that God is to us so that we could be assured that we can't beat hell. But that then He used his own blood to make us right with God. Bobby didn't really care. Nobody really does, it seems.

I read this article on Mother Theresa in Time Magazine. It talked about how these secret letters revealed that for the last 50 years of her life (that's half her life) she didn't feel close to God. But she was very persistent in serving the poorest of the poor till the very end. This makes me think that persistent faithfulness is more important than how we feel about it. It wasn't feeling close to God that kept her in his service. Sometimes I wonder what it was. Maybe it was the dear Lord Himself who sustained her for 50 years when she didn't even know it. It seems like it sure would make Christianity more attractive, and maybe more believable if Mother Theresa and I were a little less depressed about it, though. But if it's comparable at all, Mother Theresa had a bit more to be depressed about than I do.