Detoured

I just saw this documentary about Rogue Wave's drummer who needs a kidney transplant. I love Death Cab for Cutie and all things associated with them- Great Heights, Zoe, both bands at the Greek Theater with my hip uncle and auntie.
It wasn't until just now that I realized my precious lease on life. I've been spending a lot of time lately back in my old patterns of self-pity- so and so doesn't like me, I get made fun of and laughed at, I'm always messing up, I have an overwhelming amount of schoolwork and work work. I'm trying to be myself, but I just end up wanting to please everyone around me. It's like the sixth grader today who told me that all of those things that I try to fill my life up that aren't God is like chewing gum and tricking your mind into you being full just because you are chewing. I thought that was profound. I wish I could have said that thirteen years ago. They also told me no boyfriend, no problems. So right.
I went to Land's End today by myself to check out the rocks and the waves crashing over them, trying to feel that God was going to sustain me through the waves breaking and at times, drowning the rocks. That wasn't a middle schooler who told me that, but one of their parents.
My feelings keep detouring me away from the reality of the situation- that God loves me, that He's excited about me, that He's doing a new thing in me. It might mean singing Beatles songs to Laguna Honda patients on a Saturday afternoon or sharing my life with kids. I want to trust that it's going to be better than the detoured path I've set myself up to take.