the everything.

I spent Valentine's night at church. Because my liberalism makes me untouchable to the Christian guys, and their lack of faith makes the secular guys untouchable to me. Or it could be because I'm generally somewhat surly and annoying.

Nevertheless, while most of my friends were out romancing, I was taking communion, and thinking about how John Lindell seems to have cut down on holding out the ends of his wordssssss.

As he talked, I realized (again) that I don't believe that God has a plan for me. I know that's mildly blasphemous, and untrue. Intellectually, I understand that I have a purpose. But I don't feel it. I don't believe it. I search my heart, and find only the faint notion that I somehow have to create my own meaning, my own purpose.

People talk a lot down here about being in "the center of God's will." I always think how wondrous it must be to know whether or not one is in such a sweet spot, continuously. I mean, really, to know that there's a target on the ground of your life, and you are standing right at the inner bullseye.

I've only felt that gift a handful of times, spread sporadically through the years. Including once or twice at James River, which is why I stay. I'd probably be more comfortable with the Unitarian Universalists.

Sometimes, I stop, and I shout (silently) to God, "Father what do you want from me?" I imagine His calm response: "Everything. I love you so much. Everything."

Does God love me? I don't understand.