Tonight at the Informal Worship (a.k.a. Young Adults Meeting), the talk started with thinking about ways people have rather significantly cared for us in our lives. I could think of a few things and when the floor was opened for sharing the characteristics of those who have cared for us, I didn’t say anything. The pastor was disturbed by how few people said anything, even with a room full of introverts (which I think was easily justified disturbance). He made a comment about the “love tank” inside us being so low that we couldn’t even think of how we had been cared for.
I realized that I’ve sort of been there for a few weeks now. I’ve been running on empty in many ways. My energy level has been low for months. My capacity to care has been slowly draining away. And what would normally scare me, that is starting to see the bottom of the vat through the thin layer of stuff still present, isn’t that frightening any more.
I’m not sure if that’s entirely a bad thing. I’ve been filled with so many different things in my life to keep me going: friends, work, money, family, rest, etc. I don’t think there is anything inherently wrong with any of those, but I sometimes come to rely on any or all of them for my sense of being and purpose. Having them methodically removed has forced me to see that in certain ways and look elsewhere for the strength to keep going at sixty seconds per minute.
A year ago, I lost my job (and subsequently regained it). I’ve not been as wise with my money as I could have been and while I’m doing fine, I should be doing much better. I’ve lost a dear friend for reasons unknown. I’m going to be moving out in the next few months to a scary place of being entirely on my own. I’m going to a foreign land by myself having no experience in such travel whatsoever.
Yeah, my tank is emptying. But not for the worse, it seems.