Yesterday afternoon I chatted with Ross for about an hour before class. It was a scary conversation; it started with me asking about a Sam's Club card and it ended with us talking about what it means to have an addiction.
We joke about it all the time. We say we're addicted to chocolate, addicted to Facebook, addicted to The Office. And it's funny. I joke about my addictions to people, to activities, to busy-ness.
That's where the problem comes in. It really is not a joke anymore.
Addiction means something when it is associated with a negative thing -- with alcohol, cigarettes, overeating, porn, undereating, overspending, compulsive exercise, drugs. Addiction means nothing when it is associated with a positive thing -- school, friends, volunteering, church. Being busy and loving people and getting involved are good things. But I've gotten carried away. I have this dislike for being alone, this disinterest in anything that takes longer than an hour, this fear of my life post-Mizzou, when the activities become nothing more than line items on a resume.
I need Jesus, but I'm too afraid to give Him the alone time that prayer requires. I've avoided personal prayer time by praying for others in groups, by reading the Bible together. I tried yesterday to be with God, in silence, in a room all by myself, for just five minutes. I picked up my cell phone and called a friend instead.
Yuck. I don't like who I've become. The state of my heart is questionable, and I'm totally uncomfortable with that.
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