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cries of the inner-man
Went to visit my old workplace. Finally. Had I not been so damned lazy, and gone perhaps a week or two earlier, then there might've been a position open for me. But not now. Not only that, my manager coyly expressed regret of how I'm "such a good worker, better than anyone else, but needs to learn to get to work on time." I deserved that. Anyway, it was nice seeing the old gang. There were a lot of new faces but ma-ching, oya, Jose, Andy, Caesar, Ryan...are still there. My osito left. So did the sushi guy.
It is time. I don't know what I'm holding on to; I don't know what's holding me back but I think that it is time. This ongoing struggle inside of my heart, in my thoughts throughout every waking hour of the day...it is warysome and I think that it is time to surrender. Like Job. Or Jonah. All the self-righteous thoughts that captivated their hearts and made war with the Almighty...eventually, God wore 'em down for all is to bow down before Him.
Mina unnie was just here. I think I would've talked more if she hadn't brought anyone. When I want to fellowship, it's gonna be with someone that I want to talk to, someone with a certain level of spiritual depth. And s/he is to have faith from God. A promise. Because I don't trust Man. And nothing good could ever be produced out of Man. If I see an ounce of self-righteousness, I will blow him/her right out of the water. If s/he is merely trying to teach me, again, I will wear him/her out, so hard, that I will watch him/her without blinking once, straight-faced, when I finally make him/her cry helplessly. Because knowledge...and theory...is not what I need. I don't lack the knowledge, theory, the verses, the mechanics of it all. I overflow in that aspect. I could talk about that all day long, even teach another. But spirituality, God, isn't about the knowledge. i.e., A Christian knows that Jesus died for his/her sins. But does he/she believe that? If he/she still has sin, then that belief is null and Jesus died in vain.
Freedom. It's a very relative thing. Because what freedom means to you, doesn't necessarily mean the same to the next person. So what is freedom to me? True, genuine, freedom. I've learned that being able to do whateverthefuck I want doesn't make me truly free. (Another mirage in life.) Drinking whenever I feel? Smoking a cigarette once every hour? I say that it's something that I want, but is it really?
Two ruling forces over the face of this earth. Everyone is driven by one or the other. Even the most mindless people.
There was a time when I lived in the church. Or even before that. There was a time when my life revolved around the church, God. Obviously, there are restrictions; things I shouldn't do. And at a certain point, I felt like I was in a cage. Trapped and suffocating. And once I broke loose, was I really free? For a very long time, after that, I was despairing, so miserably, that I'd drink scotch by myself, at home, then call my pastor at 3, or 4 in the morning. Interesting thing about that is whenever I called, I'd not say a word; I wanted to just hear the pastor, or the samonnim's voice. So I'd listen. The second or third time I called, my samonnim said, "sojin ah, is that you? c'mon, I know it's you. Speak up." Then I'd just hang up, drink some more, and cry myself to sleep. Then after a while, I became numb, lukewarm, to any sense and feeling towards God. Even to this day.
I miss being in the refuge, and under the shadow of the church. Even though there were certain "restrictions", when my life revolved around nothing but the church, when I was under the wings of the church, laughed with the church, that was true freedom. Going through weddings, baby showers, birthdays, Thanksgiving, New Years Eve and Day, with the congregation - there, was true freedom.
I have so much history with our current pastor and samonnim. I don't know what I'll do if they get switched. I have a feeling that they'll be switched as soon as we, the church, finalize the move to a bigger church. But I want my pastor to wed me. Is that right? I don't want to get married to my pastor. I want him to, you know. What the fuck is the word.
There was a time when my pastor said solemnly, dead-seriously, "don't think of me as a pastor. think of me as your oppa (older brother). cuz I think of you as my dongseng (little sister)." I almost busted out laughing because I thought he was joking, but didn't when I saw his face. I mean, he has 2 kids, pretty old now...early 40's. Anyway, he said this twice, two different times.
Now I remember why I used to wail and cry like a motherfuck whenever I got drunk. Also why I have stopped.
J hyung, I'm not preaching. I swear.
Mina unnie, although you'll never come across this entry, nor my blog, I know that you know, that I'm sorry. Like it says in the scriptures, God will wipe your tears. The tears that I made you spill, because of my stubbornness, hardness, and arrogance...I know it wasn't spilt in vain. I suppose this goes for all that prayed for me until now. My father, pastor, samonnim. Even my sister. Anyway, like you said, it's not me, but the devil inside of me.
Enough.
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