Last Exit Before Oblivion

Years like sand... hot and dry, stretching ahead to the horizon. Beyond that, more sand. Time is just something long and inconvenient between me and what I want.

What do I want? Right now I think it would be nice to find someplace dark and cool and just disappear. Not much of a goal for life.

More short-term, I want the weekend to show up. Work is inconvenient, frustrating, not where I want to be. But weekend hours pass at the same rate as our work and Monday shows up again. And Monday, and Monday, on and on.

How does anyone look forward to this? What would I do if given a choice? What would make my life light up? I have no idea of that, either. I'm well-trained: take the status quo and just hang on.

I never expected to live this long. Looking no farther forward than I had to at any one moment, years piled up without even looking for them. Somewhere along the line I gave up on the idea that life might bring me something good, and that I might be able to influence that to make it better. I'm not the believing kind. The basic choice is between accepting what is, or leaving.

I wonder what God's plan is. I wonder if there's any way to change the way I feel about the future. Is there anything left of the child's wonder and eagerness to run into each new situation? I know plodding. Running and dancing are for others. Maybe I'm looking for something that doesn't exist. Maybe I'll always be a plodder. Maybe God wants a plodder. Oxen do, after all, have a long history in transportation. Slow, but they get there.

The truth is that I don't really know what to think. I have pieces of a dream but no vision to hold them together. I feel as if I've lost the way, but I still feel God's touch and hear his voice. Is there anything better than this to look forward to? Is life something to get excited about? Children are believers. They believe that wonder awaits on the other side of the next sand dune. Maybe God is turning me into a believer, but, believe me, it's a difficult way.