AGGGhh

I am rereading my pre-Senegal blog, and it is just making me pissed at myself.  Back then, I was so in touch with God.  Even when I was ignoring him, I figured out why, and I saw what he was doing.  I was so scared to go to Senegal, and I had this awesome backdrop of Christian classes and Christian friends and Christian roommates to help me through that.

Last December I wrote about being horribly selfish, wasting my days in front of the TV or reading books.  I have deluded myself into thinking that I can spend all my time reading because, well, I'm a librarian and it's good to know your product.  But no, really, I'm still just horribly selfish.

How did I go to Africa and have this life-changing experience, and then go back to being the same?

It's like I always said when I was in college--Peoria makes me regress.  I love it here, but it turns me into an adolescent.  I hate that.  I hate being boy crazy.  I hate struggling between childhood and adulthood.  But that's all I do here.  Not a good idea to live in your hometown.

But I'm scared that going to Mongolia won't do anything.  What if going overseas to kick myself in the butt doesn't work anymore because I look forward to it?

What if I'm supposed to be learning things here in Peoria and I'm so lazy and ugh, living the American dream that I don't even see the lessons or care to follow them?

Why am I so focused on myself?  Why aren't I in love with Jesus the way I was?  I used to know so confidently that I was put on this earth to glorify him, and that every day was an adventure in which I could know him better.  And now?  Now I work at the library, mope at home, and drown my sorrows in entertainment.

I'm so ready to move on and live overseas, but I'm so scared that it won't fix anything.  As Neil Gaiman said in The Graveyard Book, wherever you go, you take yourself with you (though he was referring to death).  I wish there was a way I could leave myself behind.