I Should Be Working

It's midnight. I'm at the library. And for the first time, I'm actually not completely wasting time or getting coffee for my non-overwhelming work schedule. That's right, I'm actually writing a research paper. I have to say though that it still isn't so horrible because I like the class, the professor, and the subject matter. It's for my Graphic Design History class, I have Professor Kabbash and we have to compare three artists' work from three different graphic design movements. It's fun finding the vocabulary to critique their work and I foresee it helping me in the near future.

I've been thinking a lot about diligence and being a fair steward of God's time. It sounds pretty old-school, with the fast paced, take-things-as-they-come society we live in, (not that I've ever really been concerned about a greater "society" outside of my door) but I feel like I'm moving at a sensible pace when I have a list of goals. Everyone keeps some list of goals for their day. But rather than worrying about that "X" I get to put in the box on my checklist once I finish, I find joy in just doing exactly what's in front of me with the stopwatch out of my head. It's because of task-clutter that I haven't been able to journal or write songs. It has also been the source of my stress. I think the paramount need of mine is to be a lot more tranquil.

I have to admit that it's been pretty interesting doing so. In my times with God I've been discussing my pride and high sense of self-righteousness. I've argued over what I need and deserve to only realize that the only thing I really deserve is death for the injustices I do to others and to God: directly as well as indirectly (Which by default is directly). It took years to swallow the fact that this life is not a story about me, but now that I've wrapped my mind around the idea, I have to say that in a lot of ways it fills me up with joy. Not only as a social performer am I inadequate, but also as a potential world-changer I seldom do a spectacular job. To hear, or even be faintly familiar with the words "you're forgiven" gives me a wine glass of hope; just enough to celebrate and just enough to look forward to the next glass.