Sometimes, I just want to give up.
Just drop everything, settle down peacefully in some small corner of Ireland with a wife, and read books.
Of course, I would still be me… I would write, and learn things, and make websites, and probably start a church eventually. But I would forget about all these projects, leave them alone, drop them behind, ignore them. Too much effort, too much time, too much heartache and busy-ness. I want peace, I want rest, and I want to be let alone. I don’t want to be famous, I don’t want to have thousands of people who know my name, I just want to be by myself with my books and my family off in some green field with a castle in my backyard.
But would I actually be content? Would I be able to do it and actually have the peace I seek there? And also, haha, would I actually be able to restrain my inexorable talent and passion for starting big things?
I doubt it. And would I be able to ask the respect of a wife, if I have abdicated from God’s plan for my life? Would I be able to find God’s peace in my own path? No. I wouldn’t.
That path is for others, others whom God has called to it, but not for me. For me, the burden is a different, and in a way, a heavier one. But it is the only one for me.
And so I go on. I pour out a verdant torrent of projects, of plans, of ideas, of goals. I change the scheme, alter the mood, and overturn worldviews without blinking (no, I haven’t watched Tron, but I want to, and I am very familiar with all the clips on youtube, haha). I challenge presuppositions and I revamp systematic theologies. I break out of the mold and create new cultural mindsets out of thin air.
And I love it. Ask my friends: I can’t separate things from the Big Picture. Every idea I have grows to megalithic proportions, weaving itself into the entirety of my psyche, my plan, my life. I am chronically addicted to starting projects.
But it is tiring, it is exhausting, and it is wearying. But it drives me into God to find the strength I need, and when I go to Him, I do find it. That is how I know this is my path: if it wasn’t, I couldn’t do it.
And so on I go. Here I am. Here I stay. Here I stand. Here I go.