—Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (8 October, "Coming to Jesus")
Dreamed that I returned to higher education to work with
The above passage nails me. Something in me wants to work out my own redemption, even as I know full well that I cannot. I deal with that impotence by distraction and avoidance, doing nearly anything I can except come. Thank God He makes me tired.
It's simple, every time. My problems are complex, and so are many of my plans and my solutions. But the answer, the real answer, is always so very simple. He's almost an insult to my intelligence, or more accurately, my ego. Scandalous. "Seemingly unspeakable foolishness," as Chambers writes. Thank God He keeps it simple, too.
The week is going OK, with an occassional blowing of my stack and losing of my cool. Some people get under my skin and sometimes most people do. Wish we had the courage and security to be straightforward with one another, but most of the time we don't, immersing ourselves instead in games of relational hide-and-seek, mind reading, and clinging to our self-created worlds and prisons. I tire of others' and I tire of mine.
"Come," He says.