Peace as a side dish

It seems like I’m always waiting for something. I don’t even know what it is, but life has become a perpetual waiting room.

I never live in the moment. I’m always thinking about what I want to do next, what I need to do tomorrow or next week, where I want to be in ten years. I have all these goals for the future, but I keep asking myself, “When are you going to start working towards them?”. My life could very well be half over at this point, and I don’t feel that I’ve accomplished half of what I wanted to.

I would like to have a child at some point. I would like to be able to get married to my partner. I want to travel more, make more friends, find answers to a few of those nagging questions in my mind.

Does God exist, and if so, does He love me as I am? If I could find the answer to those two questions, I think I could find peace in every other part of my life. I would know that everything was okay, and there was no need to worry. Imagine the relief of knowing that you are who and what you were meant to be.

Sitting back and waiting for things or answers is futile, but that’s what I seem to be doing. The funny thing is I feel happy and contented most of the time. I believe I’ve found the person that I’m supposed to be with, but even that brings fear. The fear of losing what you treasure most, never knowing when life or death will separate you.

I’m tired of being scared of life and the future. I want to embrace the moment, live in the moment, and enjoy it for what it is. It doesn’t matter how successful that I become or where I live, as long as I am at peace with myself and I have people in my life that I love.

I want to exude love like Jesus did. I can feel it sometimes; a deep, warm sensation in my soul that makes me weep for humanity and temporarily calms the storm in my head. Those are the short, sweet moments that I live for, but they are few and far between.

It makes me feel greedy and arrogant that I can be so fortunate and still be yearning for something more. I know that I’m blessed beyond comprehension, I just want peace as a side dish.

‘God Has No Hands’

God Has No Hands
By Annie Johnson Flint

God has no hands but our hands to do his work today;
God has no feet but our feet to lead others in his way;
God has no voice but our voice to tell others how he died;
And, God has no help but our help to lead them to his side.

This poem has also been attributed to St. Teresa of Avila from the 14th century, but her version (below) reads quite differently, so one would assume that the poem above is an adaptation.

Christ Has No Body
By St. Teresa of Avila

Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
No hands but yours,
No feet but yours,
Yours are the eyes through which is to look out Christ’s compassion to the world;
Yours are the feet with which he is to go about doing good;
Yours are the hands with which he is to bless men now.