juice cleansing revelation

I sat up in bed, alarmed, for the second time last night. The first, because my brother had howled a little too loud with laughter while playing L4D with his buddies. But this second time, it was from a sheer realization.

Is this it? I don't want to live like this. 

Live like what, you ask.

Like a zombie. (I'm sorry, I've been hanging around my brother too much.) Maybe I should explain first.

I've been on a juice cleanse for the past two days, because I thought it would be a great idea to detox the body after filling it with so much junk over the past semester and fattening holidays. Usually on breaks, I don't do anything productive. Most of the time, I stay tied down to my chair in an over sized sweater, mindlessly browsing YouTube from morning to dusk, checking my social media sites in fifteen minute intervals. Or sometimes, if I'm feeling real frisky, I'll watch a comedy or (more recently) a horror flick with the bro.

It's boring, really. So starting this juice cleanse was also another way of spicing things up, I suppose. (That's honestly the lesser reason, so don't judge.) Being on this cleanse, however, has made me realize two things:

1. My life really revolves around school. I mean, heck, I can't even remember what I do when I don't have something that I should be doing.

2. When I'm not at school, chances are, I'm in the kitchen. In other words, my life also revolves around food.

3. Of course, these two things also overlap quite a lot. Eat. Study. Rinse and repeat.

4. If I don't have food OR school, then I don't know what to do with myself or more bluntly speaking, I feel empty without food and school, both figuratively and literally.

5. Also, I can't count. I mean, this is clearly more than two things already.

All of these realizations, of course, are quite generalized, but you get the drift, right? And that is why, last night I sat up in bed and thought to put an end to this mess.

All of my life, I have been handed things on a silver platter. I have never felt the need to act upon a desire to see it come true. Growing up, I was the "angelic child," the goody-two-shoes between my sibling and I; consequently, as a reward, my parents would do almost anything I asked them to. To clarify, my parents constantly emphasize working hard to get what you want, so don't think I was spoiled rotten. I still had to pull my weight around the house but I knew I could manipulate certain situations to my liking.

Because of this mindset instilled in me by me, I hardly tried in high school. I didn't care. It all came to me anyway, so why bother? It wasn't until late junior year, I began to take school seriously, but honestly, it was too late. Naturally then, going into college, I wanted nothing more than to start fresh. I wanted to break away from my high school self. A typical, cliche thing for a freshman to say, no? More specifically, though, I desired a deeper relationship and walk with Christ. I wanted to leave college not just mentally prepared but spiritually as well.

I had picked my specific major because I had wanted to prove to myself I could do it without anyone's help, but as the semester dragged on, it became apparent to me I was doing it all for the wrong reasons. Still, I pushed on despite the warning signs. I didn't need discouragement. I could do this. I just had to try twice as hard. The whole idea of having to work to make something happen came to life. Suddenly, I didn't have time for anything else. Christ was nowhere to be found in the equation. I just didn't have the time. I forced myself to go to fellowship because maybe it would spark some kind of interest. Maybe it would be enough to get the flames going, but deep down, I didn't want Christ. At least, not as much as I wanted medical school. I wanted a killer GPA, transcript and a strong, solid, start. I wanted these things more than anything else. And so, I tried. I tried with every little bit of my tiny brain but, in the end, I didn't get what I wanted.

My GPA is nowhere near amazing. Medical school sounds unrealistic. My relationship with Christ has gone cold. The mere mention of church makes me cringe. I have even had to put a hold on my accountability with my friend because I could not come to terms with my situation for the longest time.

The bitter disappointment drops square between the eyes.

This break and cleanse are really putting things into perspective for me. Remove school and I have nothing. I don't want to live life like this. What if I try hard and don't make it in the end? What am I doing all this for? A simple refrain has surfaced again and again, nagging at my mind. It comes from the seemingly despairing book of Ecclesiastes, narrated by a man who's done it all and found life to be empty. I certainly haven't done it all, but I have already tasted this emptiness and it disturbs me. I am deathly afraid that one day I will echo his lament:

"Vanity of vanities! All is vanity!"

Pshaw, it doesn't apply to me, I thought when I had first read it, I am living a very purpose-driven life. Christ is my life!

But oh, how I was wrong. The only thing that made me a Christian this semester was the fact that I professed it. As far as anyone was concerned, I wore a label and that's as far as faith met life. Met is an overstatement I might add. Brushed. Glimpsed. Passed by. A verse comes to mind as I type this:

"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your heart on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things." (Colossians 3:1-2)

The Bible often tells of the heart being the most easy thing to deceive. The heart is the key to the way we think and live out life (quite literally and figuratively). To live a purposeless life is like knowing you're setting yourself up for disappointment but being forced to do it anyway. To live a life for one thing after another only to discover at the very end it has all been utterly meaningless is terrifying. I knew all this and yet, my heart and mind were living out two different things.

As I sat in my bed last night, I realized I had really lost myself. It was the age-old question: 'What is life?" that gnawed over and over again. I want a relationship. A real one with the God of the universe because I've heard He loves me. And sometimes, I feel it and sometimes I don't. I know all about Him but I don't know Him at all. Not yet, anyway. Some days, I glimpse Him and other days, I wonder where He's been.

But if I've learned anything by now, it's that nothing just happens without effort. A pursuit of Christ is exactly that. A pursuit. It takes deliberation. It takes a truckload of honesty with yourself that no, you're not okay and you need major help. It takes humility to say that the pressure of being a pastor's kid and having everyone assume your relationship with Christ is always a happy A+  is not true. It takes discipline of getting off your butt, waking up each morning and spending time with Him. It may even include the blunt anger of late-night conversations directed at the ceiling, demanding why He doesn't answer. None of this is smooth because I have tossed and turned this over in my head a million times and still can't figure it all out, but I don't care. I know He's there. I don't know why He hasn't left yet but if the God of the universe wants a relationship with me, then I want it too.