Re-Identification

How do you let go of a person you were and become the person you want to be? Why am I even asking a question like that? I have decided, for the hundredth time, to quit smoking. I wanted to quit before I headed off to Philadelphia, but what I'm finding is that quitting isn't so much "quitting" as it is "reidentifying". I have been smoking since I was 16. And as some people already know, I considered it, at the time, the lesser of two evils. There's no point in rehashing that whole process. The thing that bothers me is that I cannot seem to overcome this first step: Just getting rid of my cigarettes. I think that a part of me thinks I will fail, and that I will be miserable without them. The other strange thing about this time is that I actually believe I can quit. Why do I believe that? I'm really asking.
I'm hoping to document my journey through smoking cessation here on this blog (that no one is reading, but who cares), not only for someone else's benefit, but also as a kind of "accountability". It helps that no one is reading this blog, because it will be easier for me to be honest. Tomorrow is my official "quit" date. And I will keep you updated.

The reason I called this post "Re-Identification" is because that is really the process my life is going through right now. First, I had to manipulate my perception of myself as a healthy person into that of a semi-unhealthy person. You can't consider yourself "healthy" when doctors tell you that your Vitamin D is toxically low, that you have something akin to Narcolepsy, and that you are bipolar (and have borderline personality disorder (I took that with a grain of salt)). I will never qualify for health insurance...and I've come to grips with that... Second, I had to change my perception of myself from a student to, well, a worker. I am no longer a student, because I am no longer in school. That, particularly, was difficult. It might have been easier if I had finished a degree, but I didn't - and it has been incredibly hard. Third, I went from completely independent to almost totally dependent. I no longer pay bills or cook my own food. I own almost nothing, and I cannot see a time in the near future when I that trend will reverse itself. So, now, this identity of rebellious, smoking, drinking rock chick is the last one standing. I don't consider myself "rebellious" anymore; I call it "alternative" now (with a smile). But the smoking thing, which used to be a socializing mechanism, has become a way of isolating myself. No one would believe how much I like isolating myself. And that identity has replaced some of my old ones...
I'm not sure how much my life should change. I only know that I can barely handle one thing changing at a time. But cigarettes are expensive, and I'll die someday if I don't quit. I know it, even if I don't really think about it. So, I'm going to quit. Tomorrow. June 1st.

My future decided...

How nice would it be if I could plan a life for myself?  I crave that.  It might sound silly, but I really wish that I could look at my future and say, "This is what I am going to do when I'm 25, 30, 50, 100." I realize that the day I decided to let Jesus be in charge I gave up my rights to planning my life.  At the time, I was glad to hand over that responsibility.  If I hadn't, I'm sure I wouldn't have made it this far.  Still...it is nice to have a plan, especially when you have thousands of dollars worth of debt under your belt and no prospects for a job paying more than $10 per hour. 

I'm leading a small group at my church, and right now we're working our way through a bible study I did with my cousin last year, To Walk and Not Grow Weary.  I found it to be a really, really good study for people going through really difficult circumstances.  Since I've started the group, it has grown to about 13 people.  We don't fit in the center room anymore (and I've told Jeff, but he just grins and says that I have to deal with it, so I end up standing off in a corner talking over everyone's heads).  What is really unique about my group is that I am one of the youngest people there, and I'm leading it.  That in itself has been important to me.  The people in my group have offered me a lot of unique experience.  The reason I mention them is because this last Sunday we were talking about Solomon and Ecclesiastes, "Life is meaningless."  Someone said, "I don't think my life had any meaning before Christ."  And that's my whole point.

Later that night, I was listening to John Mayer as I tried to fall asleep, and one of his songs New Deep has the lyrics, "Ever since I tried, trying not to find every little meaning in my life, it's been fine, I've been cool with my new golden rule."  And I realized that my life has no meaning without Jesus.  Why should I care about anyone else?  I can't find a reason to be the kind of person I dream of becoming if Jesus wasn't fueling some kind of fire in me.  

All of this coupled with a few Hillsong United songs, My Future Decided and All I Need Is You in particular, I feel like I could do just about anything.

I'm terrified that all of the good things that have happened with Philadelphia are going to just disappear.  Really, really terrified.  I mean, every time something cool has happened in the last few years, I feel like it has just been crushed by life.  I've kind of come to grips with the fact that, since I can be kind of persistent, that is God's only way of getting my attention.  Still...

My Future Decided - Hillsong United

All I Need Is You - Hillsong United