I knew something was wrong when I started craving chick flicks and feeling sick of Christian books. I’ve never been a movie fan, and Christian writing is my livelihood. I think I’m tired of thinking. I feel like it’s time to feel.
I should have seen this coming. First there was the powerful sermon in March on emotional maturity. Then the mentors forcing me to list feelings (apparently “confused” doesn’t count – it’s an intellectual state).
When I visited Ethiopia, an engineering grad about my age told me how she’d learned to pay attention to emotions. She suggested reading a Christian book about feelings. I laughed. What a solution.
Then I remembered my new boss was the premier scholar on emotions in the New Testament.
I’ve been devouring his book Feel the past couple weeks. I feel excited.
“How are you doing?” to “How are you feeling?”
The extra verb muffles being with activity.
When I want to be heard above the shuffle,
I feel not,
except to grasp my trusty “I think,”
wield my hard head,
shield the squishy parts.
But today, ask
“How are you?” and
I’ll be honest:
Lately I feel my heart
beat against the bars of its rib cage
to come out now
and I feel scared.
Stay posted for more on feelings.