Such is life.

I’m sitting here in the laundry room of my dorm when suddenly I think of God. Amongst these sea foam green walls, the 6 washing machines whirring simultaneously, and the scent of laundry detergent and wet clothes I think of God.  I watch a boy, still in his pajamas, take his clothes out: one washer of whites and one of darks. He probably feels pretty great about separating his laundry while I separate mine “towels socks, etc, and all the clothes that I don’t want towel fuzz on" because I'm lazy. A girl comes in, probably having a productive Saturday because she’s doing laundry. Maybe she thinks the same about me.  I've lost track of time. I want it to be 11 AM-a whole day ahead of me, maybe I have evening plans, dinner with friends, a movie night. It’s not and I don’t. It’s already 5 and my plans tonight are folding my clothes.  These past two weeks have blurred together like paints blurring together from once bright, crisp colors to a now muddled brown. I don’t know where my faith in God has gone. I want it to be here again and I want to be living each day fervently for our creator, but I’m not. I could go through the motions I used to go through when my relationship with God was at its strongest, but they won’t mean anything and I don’t want to do them. I don’t feel the same when praying, but if God is who I once thought Him to be, then he will hear my prayers, despite how empty they might be. 

I asked him last night in my restlessness to give me a unique relationship. Maybe the old one wasn't working and maybe I need more. If He is so huge and limitless, then so is the potential for a relationship with Him. Maybe my relationship won’t be about doing day-to-day “Christian” acts like not swearing and preaching the Bible. Maybe they will be more silent. Maybe they will be the tips of my fingers in a laundry room at 5 PM on a Saturday. Maybe not, but I’m not sure of anything in this world, so maybe my life isn’t meant to be normal. Or maybe it is. I think I’m in a funk right now. A February funk, to be precise. January was energized and purposeful and felt right. February doesn’t feel wrong, but it isn’t January.  I keep my phone by me, pretending that a friend will call and ask me to do something tonight. I will have a fulfilling adventure and then life will seem clear again.