Feelings

 "Feelings may come and go, change like the weather. 

Jesus is still the same, He changes never."

I remember this little chorus from my high school years. The memory of those years in church, in youth group, at camp is large, misty, too much forgotten, but deeply loved. Just thinking of the faces, places, and events this little song conjures up brings joy. But that is another story, a memoir which may never get written, but no less loved for that.

Feelings. If I could go all deep psychological, I don't think I would. But feelings are oh-so real, largely unpredictable, sometimes devastating. Real. And yet, "I am not my feelings," a wise man once said, echoed by my beloved Uncle to me during a time of duress. And some of us are, well, more feeling-oriented than others. I learned (almost) long ago to hold my tongue in certain contexts or with certain people. The pain that comes from sharing deeply-felt realities with others who couldn't possibly understand (for all the normal reasons) is just too much.

Feelings of despondency can come in waves, and often the reasons are obvious, though no more easier to talk about for that. But I will try. As I read a fascinating piece this morning I was reminded of my obscurity, the apparent pointlessness of my efforts to write. Is this from an over-sized self-conception about such things, the idea if I don't write like Shakespeare I should just give up the game? 

I don't know. It's an exaggerated idea but there's something to it. And it is embarrassing to acknowledge.

I tried to write briefly on this elsewhere. And I've wondered about greatness before. I remember, as a new freshman, telling the Dean of Students at my beloved Bible College, "I want to be great." He helped me morph the idea into a much more acceptable, "I want to do great things." For myself I have morphed it further by assuming anyone can do great things and anyone should try.

I confess to being at the end of myself on the question. I am not great, never will be. And if, for some inexplicable reason it were to happen, very little if any of it would have to do with conscious effort on my part.

This is embarrassing because, well, it is. But confession is good for the soul and as I said, I assume a feeling I have is more or less common to all human experience. So I should not berate myself overmuch.

Where does that leave this early-morning musing? The most central aspect of my life has been a desire and attempt to follow God, to let the words and life of Christ be central, the highest good, the "pearl of great price." So what does Jesus say about greatness? Something like this: "If you want to be great in God's eyes, learn to be the servant of all."

The way God sees things is what matters. Could it be that what matters most to Him is whether I am learning to serve?

I think so. And so, to echo an expression of my beloved late father, "delusions of grandeur" will only mislead and discourage. Best to lay them aside and do everything with an eye to serve. It takes honesty and sometimes painful action to lay aside all else. And sometimes what looks like "all-else" can be sanctified, as we say, to be of service. Otherwise it is all of self, which never portends true greatness.

Jesus says be a servant. I don't know much of what that means, but I want to listen and obey. Which means I will quit writing and pray.

Feelings come and go, but my life is not built there. Thanks be to God.