Anything Important? Anything Real?

I’ve really wanted to write.

And suddenly I have the time. 

Yet mostly I’ve stared at the cursor on a white screen until my attention is diverted for a few minutes and I eventually close my computer and/or fall asleep.

See writing is one of those things – one of those things I think I have a passion for.  When I write something meaningful or something that matters, it makes me come alive.  I love the look of words on a page and I love the way suddenly thoughts I couldn’t quite express take shape as my fingers fly. 

The problem is that my motivation to write has been mere desire.  I want to but I also want it to be something significant, profound, intentional.  I could just write, but why?  For what reason?  Simply because I’m capable? But unless I’m writing out of passion, well there is never anything really worth writing about.

A year or so ago I came to these conclusions about passion and desire (and capabilities for that matter)...

“Passion is always about something external – outside of person, outside of self, about something else.

Desire is always about something internal – inside person, emotional and so changing, about self

Passion can fuel desire and desire can fuel passion but one must be careful of the foundation and/or motives as desire may fuel a selfish passion or passion may produce an unhealthy desire.

Capabilities without desire boils down to obligation and duty.

Capabilities without passion is self-sufficiency.

Desire without passion is often a prideful power trip...because desire is brought back to self.

Passion without desire is merely ideals and good intentions...because passion is about something external. 

Capabilities without desire or passion is apathy.”

Recalling and re-finding these conclusions bothered me.  Not because I’ve been home sitting in my pajamas for two, going on three, days doing nothing and not writing though I could.  But because somehow it registered something bigger, deeper...

Because writing isn’t making my blood flow.  Whoop-de-do!

But what is?

When is the last time I felt passion for...anything?  Let alone anything important, anything real?

I take even just brief stock of my life and I immediately note that I’m functioning on capabilities and limited desire – in almost every spectrum.  I’m capable.  Good.  And desire comes into play because desire, being internal often has to do with my want to succeed, to please, and to achieve.  And what I have a lot of is, in fact, self-sufficiency.  And a realization that I need to let go of my pride. And when success, achievement, and people pleasing wear me out for the day?  I’m apathetic. 

Too often, far too often, I just don’t care. 

About anything. 

Not really.

I want to.

I used to care about everything.  Absolutely everything.

And then I think I got tired.

But now what’s keeping me going?  What moves me? What propels me?  What shakes me?  What encourages me?  What inspires me?  What angers me?  What motivates me? 

And why don’t I have an answer for any of those questions? 

God’s been distant in my life the last few months.  Distant, so distant. I suppose that’s not really very accurate.  I’m quite aware that I’m the one who is distant.

I need Him now more than ever but He also can’t be – for reality or for show – the answer to those questions.  Because the unfortunate and honest answer is that He’s not. 

God’s not currently my passion. 

This saddens me.  But I feel as if I would be more disappointed with myself if I had replaced Him with something else...I have not.

I’m finding myself lacking the passion for much of anything.

Especially anything important, anything real...