I want a life I can be proud of. When I am greeted by death's sweet embrace, I want to be able to say that I gave it all without holding back. I want to know as I close my eyes for the last time that, even with all the curve balls that life has thrown my way, and will continue to throw, that I kept swinging, without fear and without reservation. To say that I stood my ground and lived with integrity and honor. That I loved deeper than the sea, and gave without hesitation. I want to work hard and build an empire. More than anything though, I want to live in truth and find where I belong in this world. So how do I do this? (an honest question to anyone that has the answer.)
The logical answer, to me, starts with work. This is not something that I am not afraid of, in fact, some might say I work to much, to these people, I have to ask is there such a thing? I love to work, I mean I kind of hate it, but it drives me. It is the only way I ever see myself getting ahead.(this might seem like I am stating the obvious, but in today's day and age of entitlement, one can't be to sure...) I spent the early part of my twenties craving acceptance and partying my life away. The bar became my church, and in all honesty, I would still rather spend the night playing pool and having a few beers, than sitting in a pew waiting for the service to get over. Don't get me wrong, I NEED to go to church, it is one of the places that God talks to me, but the facade of church is just that, a false front. Maybe I have been jaded by the past, but I never feel comfortable in church, which is ironic, since it is often referred to as a sanctuary. For me there is something unsettling about it. I see the smiles, I hear the praise music, I see everyone dressed appropriately, yet it just doesn't feel right... Part of this falls on me, in fact the majority of it falls on my shoulders.
I smile back, I sing the songs, and i dress appropriately myself, but it never feels real. The conversation never goes past the weather, and that eats at me. Why can't I be real? Why can't I say that I am having a shitty day, or that I am doubting the path that God has set me on...? Or that I sometimes question if there even is a path? If, by chance someone does care to ask, it always feels as if they are trying to save me as soon as they hear an honest answer, but here is the thing, I am 100% secure in my faith. Does that mean that I can't question things from time to time...? I sure hope not. If questions are never asked, answers are never found. To me church has become a social club, at least the churches I have been to. People worry about how many cars are in the parking lot. ( I shit you not, I have been to places where they actually publish the weekly numbers in the bulletin.) There is a lot of in-reach and not a lot of outreach, and that is why people are turned away, no one likes to be judged. I heard it said that church is just rehab for sinners, and I feel like this has been forgotten, we all have secrets that we don't want to share, and we can all be, and will be judged. I am pretty sure the Bible says"...Judge not, lest you be judged..." Our job as Christians is to show compassion and understanding. I say we leave the judgment to God.
So why am I more comfortable in bars? I have found the realest people in the world at the bar. (before or mid drunk, if they are blacked out all bets are off.) In my experience the dirtier the bar the better. No one is trying to hide the fact that they are hiding something in a bar. Everyone knows on some level that they are trying to escape something, whether its a girlfriend or boyfriend, maybe a long day at work, or just trying to avoid being lonely. The unsaid is accepted and making an ass of yourself is celebrated. I lived for it,
As I have grown older though I realize that the bar is empty, it is still fun, but if I truly want to reach my goals, it holds nothing for me. All it will do is take my money and eat my soul. So where does that leave me? I was raised in the church, but feel unwelcome (partially due to my own hypocrisy), and I rebelled in the bar, which left me alone and behind the eight ball as far a maturity goes. The only answer that I am left with is work.
Like I said, I love to work. I have no formal education so my options as far as jobs go, are somewhat limited. Lucky for me I have diabetes and I love to swing a hammer. There is something to be said for physical labor. For one, I am convince that it has kept me alive, as soon as I got diagnosed with this wonderful disease, I went back to pouring concrete. If you have never poured concrete, I have to tell you it is the most demanding job, both mentally and physically, I have ever had the pleasure of doing. I. Love. It. In my mind there are only a few things greater than spending the entire day out in the sun, racing the clock trying to make a slab perfect, or setting wall forms knowing that the end product has to be precise. Being able to see what I accomplished at the end of the day is rewarding as well. I have found this is true of any kind of construction. It is a all one big puzzle that needs to be put together with a mixture of speed and skill. Some do it well, and others, not so well, but I know that I get better at it everyday, and that is something that I take pride in.
As much as I love working with my hands, I have found myself wondering lately, if that is how I want to spend the rest of my life...? Will it lead me where I want to go? There is certainly a good living to be made doing it, and it satisfies my need to create something and solve problems. I have found, however, that there are very few people that I work well with. I have high standards, and don't like being taken advantage of, I constantly worry that the work will run out. So I ask myself what else am I capable of....? What else do I need to feel fulfilled...?
These are questions that, I will without a doubt, ponder the rest of my life. The answers are right in front of me, I just can't seem to get to them. I know that I love writing. It clears my mind, and my thoughts are easier to walk through if I can see them on the page. I also love to create art, whether it is a painting, photography, or writing a poem. It is almost a compulsion, these things also create the most doubt in my life, because they are so intensely personal, and that is where the truth lies. It is a scary truth, because I have to live up to it. I often give up, because I fear that I will not be able to stand in the light of it. As soon as I figure out how to make a living, doing these things that I love, watch out....
At the end of the day I don't need to be rich (although that would be nice), I don't think being comfortable out of the question. It would be wonderful to not have to worry every time I swipe my debit card. 30 is looming in the not to distant future and it is time to grow up. I want to build my own house, with my own hands, and after years and years of watching and learning, I now have the skills to do just that. I also want to be published within the next 5 years, I am not sure how, but I will find a way. I have been blessed in many aspects of my life, but I have also squandered many of those blessings. Something has to change, and something is changing. I am not the same person I was a year ago, so I am gonna keep truckin as they say, because the change has to start with me, and that is what I really want.
-Micah
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