First of all, it’s not actually my greatest fear. Outside of eternal separation from GOD, spiders would probably be at the top of my list. (shiver)
Secondly, I’m not ordinarily morbid or so focused on my impending end. In fact, most of the time, I don’t think about stuff like that. But for some reason, it came to mind this weekend as I surveyed my life.
Fact is that I’ve been spending a lot of time on my own again lately. This isn’t a ploy for sympathy. I love it. Solitude is addictive! I crave it. I long for it. I need it. And my solitude isn’t lonely. I’ve been spending my time reading. I opted to put my Netflix account on hold for a while and get caught up on some books I’ve been collecting, and I’ve really been enjoying every minute. Nothing quite like getting wrapped up in someone else’s imagination! It’s pure joy for me.
As innocent as reading is, I have to be careful. I know me. If I let it, reading can so easily replace relationships for me, which is dangerous. Sure, I can enjoy books, but I need to be around people – real live, flesh and blood people, too. I need to be interacting with others. I need to be involved in making the lives of those around me better. I need to actively participate in my own story.
Frankly, I’m not embracing my mission if I select fiction over real life. Lots to ponder…
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