A Scratch on the Surface

I've recently found that I am 99% consumed with minor day-to-day happenings and the endless thoughts that go into them as they drift in and out of my subconscious. I'm a very predictable person who wears her...eh... to do list on her sleeves. I tend to overthink topics as simple as body oil vs. body lotion. I often wish I were deeper but on most days, you can easily notice that I'm wrapped up in some form of trivial existence. Perhaps I'm more comfortable turning the smallest of subjects into all consuming projects so I don't have to be deep otherwise. I'm not picking on myself - I'm just setting the stage for where I have been and where I have been coming from. I am not a bad person and like most, my true efforts are in check.

When the occasional moment of clarity separate from this place in life occurs, I find that I long to be better acquainted with myself. In order to do so, I am compelled to first find my spiritual self. Not "Felecia the Christian"; but a Felecia who is that of faith in all that was intended for us as believers of God. To this point, I feel that my adolescent decision to go up to an alter and claim my faith as a Christian has ushered me from one area entitled "potential client" into another area labeled "solid benefactor". Only I wasn't sure what I was invested into. I know the contract read something to the effect of "will go to heaven" (good); "will pray" (sure); "won't be bad" (um); "will pray for forgiveness when bad" (whew)... Much like signing a life insurance policy, the quick description all made sense and it seemed to be the logical thing to do, so sign on the dotted line I did.

I've recently learned that while my contract may be open-ended, it is only the basic coverage plan.

I just laughed at that last statement because I find it ironic that I actually used it! Me! The girl who said more than a dozen times "It's not like there are different LEVELS of Heaven, for crying out loud!" "I'm not going to be stuffed into the basement of Heaven just because I missed a few Sundays at church!"

Which brings me to a theory I'm considering about Heaven. It's not my theory entirely, but one of a good friend of mine. Based on biblical commentary, she observes that a life apart from God is hell. Given that, I think we could stand to reason that a portion of our Heaven is here on Earth. Which solidifies the argument that indeed, there are "levels" of Heaven! I can say I love God and do my best to comply with the standards of a fundamental Christian lifestyle, but what if that only gets me through the door? It's when I wake up spiritually and make the cognitive decision to learn more about my faith that I've found perhaps this other level.

To better organize my thoughts, I've compared it to a vacation. It's been a long time since we've taken a vacation. And I think you would all agree that a large part of a vacation is the excited anticipation for its arrival. We're shipping out to Disney World in a week, and so the past few months have had me happily planning our itinerary. Everything that I do in preparation for this vacation has been extremely fun - whether it be booking the hotel to making dinner reservations once we arrive. It occurs to me then, that the preparation is part of the entire vacation - not just the seven days we spend in Florida. Now why haven't I been able to apply this concept to my eternal preparation?

The distractions, I suppose.

I made an attempt to delve into zealous Christianity a while back. What an episode that was. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that unless you are (a) speaking in tongues, (b) on your face crying or (c) dating the pastor's son, Heavenly bliss was out of reach. I left the church with a lot of confusion and anger, but most of all, I left the church feeling as if I had failed a test that everybody else had seemed to ace. Half of me wonders if they were cheating and the other half hope they all fall off a cliff.

I don't see myself entering a phase of life that is an obvious transformation for anybody other than myself and my faith. I'm not going to start wearing dowdy clothes or bringing my Bible with tattered cover everywhere I go. I'm not going to be the person who preaches to the cashier at Target about Christianity by using the same pitch as a guy would to sell me a Saturn. I'm going to lead by example for my children, yes, but beyond that I'm going to do my best to find a permanent clarity from the distractions that work so hard to cloud our time here. In doing so, I'm going to find joy. My little piece of Heaven on Earth.