So I hated life, because all the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me. And who knows whether he will be a wise man or a fool? Yet he will have control over all the work into which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless. So my heart began to despair over all my toilsome labor under the sun. For man may do his work with wisdom, knowledge and skill, and then he must leave all he owns to someone who has not worked for it. This too is meaningless and a great misfortune. What does a man get for all the toil and anxious striving with which he labors under the sun? All his days his work is pain and grief; even at night his mind does not rest. This too is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 2:17-23)
The first two sentences of this paragraph hit me so I decided to put them in the blog. I put the whole paragraph not so much more for me but for you reading.
So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grevious to me. The work done under the sun is still grievous to me. I don't hate but I don't understand, well sometimes I hate. I feel there is no direction I can take that I will be happy with, that will satisfy me. I've had these feelings for a while now and they tear away at me. They keep me sitting idle doing nothing but focusing on my toilsome labor and the worthlessness of it all.
I had a dream last night. This dream showed me three paths. One was a path I had been on before and I was looking to go down it again. It was a scary, long, gruelling path that lead to nowhere. I did not want to go on this path however this is the path I was drawn to in my dream. Another path directly behind me was a very steep difficult path. This path was shorter and on the other side there was nothing but sinking mud. I could find quick self-worth on this path by running to the top and showing everyone I could do it. I knew I could make it to the top but that would be the end of it. I could run and repeat this however I would never be able to go any further, only up, down, up and so forth. The praise and recognition I would receive would feel nice but would only deteriate, and was not what I was seeking. The third path was not really a path. It was more like a place. I never walked to this place but just seemed to be there. I was happy, full of joy, holding on and living in innocence. There was a game, practice maybe, of volleyball going on. It seemed juvenile and misguided however the people were doing the best they could. I felt challanged to join but I didn't. I was with most of my family, across the court my Grandpa watched the game being played, cheering with the crowd. I sat content with my niece speaking to me and us laughing together. I didn't want this to ever end.
I believe this last place represents the church, the body. The game being played is life. Here is where I will find myself and my calling. I am an intricate piece of the puzzle in the body. I do not know where that is but I know the body is where I belong.
