...sigh...

It's been a good weekend, overall. Church, school, rest from working out, hanging out with friends and such is nice.
I watched the lateset installment of Pirates of the Caribbean today, and it opened a strange hole in my heart.
You know, I think I'd rather fight a kraggen and an undead Davey Jones, along with his ugly and stinky crew, than sit here and have a nice weekend. There is definite lack of adventure here, and I hate it. It's not just a lack of adventure. It's a lack of purpose. It seems as though I've accomplished nothing at all these past couple of days (or did I mean to say years?).

What to do?

I've learned that an adrenaline rush is not what I'm really looking for, even though it's an effective substitute, as far as short-term answers go. Rock climbing, mountain biking and other things are temporary. I need an adventure that is worth having. I need a wizard scratching the paint on my door. I need a crazy magician uncle. I need a wardrobe (only if it takes me to Narnia, though).
As a youth, I read the sci-fi/fantasy genre almost exclusively. After a few years of wondering why, I realized that the books I got into the most were the stories of regular folks that were drawn into a great conflict. They went, sometimes willingly and sometimes not; and in spite their best efforts they managed to save the entire world/universe/alternate dimension, etc.
I don't mind not saving the world. I don't mind not saving my apartement complex. I do mind not having work that won't perish when the Lord returns. I mind not knowing my purpose in the unit in which I serve. I mind wondering if there even is a purpose. I mind the frustration of seeing Americans die in far-off places and not being able to do anything about it. I mind seeing anybody die and not being able to do anything about it.
When I started this blog, my sole intent was to glorify God by telling the truth, both about my life and whatever else the Lord may decide. Now I feel like I'm complaining.