What do you do when you know that you have no business being a father? When you know that you will bring pain to those you love? When you are broken and have no idea when you’ll be restored?

I have a child that will be born soon. How did I manage to be such a miserable failure? How could I be so unprepared? How could I get so comfortable with everyday life that I am actually surprised by these events?

My wife hates some of the things I say and feel and do. And so do I. I despise the inner darkness. I despise her inner darkness. Most Americans live their whole lives not knowing how dark they truly are on the inside. People who have been abused, raped, rejected, abandoned, ignored, and forgotten.

We are all damaged goods. We are all trying to make the best of it. And when it comes time to face the truth, we are all unprepared to face the evil things we do and have already done.

Maybe it’s a mood swing. Maybe it’s the comedown from caffeine. Maybe it’s the fact that my wife and I aren’t getting along. Whatever the case, I am second guessing everything. From career to blogs to the way I approach money.

I’m not happy. That’s no secret. I have been pushing myself mentally for months now to assume the mentality of an overachiever. I’ve been positioning myself to accomplish certain financial goals. And somewhere along the line, I became dependent upon my strategies for success to make me feel better as a person.

Even when nothing was happening, I could do a few searches online or read a blog and I’d feel inspired to keep dreaming and hoping and planning for the future. That future where I make ridiculously good money for doing exactly what I love where I still have time for family, friends, and hobbies.

But that’s not who I am. Not yet. For now, I’m the guy who obsesses about one thing or another in order to pass the time. All the dreams and hopes start to seem silly when I feel this way. Will I ever reach the point of satisfaction? Will I ever be able to relax?

You see, I gauge success by only one factor: the ability to relax and rest. It may sound silly to some of you, but it is literally the most difficult thing in the world for me to do. Sure, I could “rest” all I wanted when I was a smoker. But I wasn’t really resting. I was hiding behind a cigarette from the world. It was my comforter - my 24/7 lifeline.

Since then, I’ve rediscovered my restlessness. I was a panicky individual at the age of 19… six months to a year after I quit smoking the first time. Though I’ve gone through countless mood swings and rages, I was never very panicky for the next nine years after I began smoking again. Here I am, a non-smoker, and the panic returns.

I’ve been avoiding this for years. But here I am, without a decent vice, and all I can realize is that I am not comfortable with who I am, with what I have accomplished, or with the direction of my life. I am not able to rest without obsessions, because I feel like a failure. I haven’t done enough. Not yet. And that “not enough” makes me angry, scared, and tired.

There’s a “something” out there I am afraid to face. Without burying my sorrows in a latte or the Internet, how do I cope? How do I face the reality that I have done nothing significant with my life yet? I’m referring to gifts and talents and callings here. I am referring to purpose. Sure, I can do better at being a good husband. My wife will more than agree to that right now. But every husband should be a good husband.

What about the things that make me uniquely me? Are those developing? Am I really growing, or merely distracting myself? I wish I could gauge these things accurately. For now, I ask God these questions and listen for an answer.

One of these days, I will look back at me today and wonder at my current state of confusion. Especially since we moved to this new church, some lifelong questions are beginning to be answered. I’ve never attended a charismatic church where the pastor actually knew how to teach. Most charismatic pastors/preachers are well-intentioned motivational speakers.

I decided not to rail against preaching in this post, although that was my intention. A quick lexicon check tells me that there are multiple Greek words used for “preach”, and that “preaching the Gospel” is a common phrase in Scripture. I had thought previously that the word “preach” might be a contemporary term.

So while I do not yet know the difference between the word “preach” and “teach”, I think they may describe fundamentally different approaches to communicating with others. If preaching isn’t teaching, perhaps it is persuading, but I’m not sure.

I was going to lump all the boring people from my past into the “preaching” category, because it feels like they’re trying to motivate me to do something (unsuccessfully, most of the time). Yet, I have found quality teaching, though rare, to be extremely valuable and useful.

The preachers I’ve heard usually begin with a topic or an intentional exhortation. They then find passages in Scripture to support the point or illustrate how it is carried out. Much of what is said involves personal experience, feelings, and how things would/could be different if only we would perform or stop performing action X.

The few teachers I’ve heard usually begin with a topic that the body needs further understanding in. They then find passages in Scripture which discuss, explain, or illustrate the meaning of the topic. The teacher’s purpose is not so much to exhort people to action as to ensure a right understanding of Scripture. Not that action is bad, of course, but I have found that truth changes people into God’s image. Love does the same, but that is even more of a mystery at times.

I have heard, considered, and agreed with the premise that people are emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, and sometimes physically damaged because we believe lies. In each circumstance that a lie is exposed in our beliefs and replaced with truth, healing begins to take place.

We apparently empower whatever we believe. If I believe that no one loves me, then even the most loving people’s affection will not fully impact me. I will believe that their actions mean something else, because I cannot receive love until I believe it is possible to do so.

That is a perfect example of what I have learned from teaching. All the preaching in the world couldn’t give me that.

As I take a moment to think on you, I am overcome with the raw and powerful urge to protect you. You are my precious one. The one whose love and nurture I covet most.

Your passion to overcome astonishes me. I am both amazed and concerned by the level of dedication you put into overcoming obstacles. At times I wonder why I lack such a drive. Other times, I wonder if you should be able to relinquish control more often to preserve your sanity.

I have watched your transformation these past five and a half months. I have witnessed the softening of your heart and the sense of pleasure you derive from sensations caused by the baby’s movement and very existence. I love your softness. I think I haven’t made you feel safe enough to develop this part of your heart until now.

This will be the most extraordinary year of our lives. We will both meet our firstborn face to face before year’s end. We will share another intimate and exclusive moment. Only with you is this possible.

It scares me sometimes how much I need you.

Without a real defined sense of direction, it’s easy to feel spread thin. Take me, for example. I own 30 or so domains. Nine or ten of them are active blogs. There is no way on God’s green earth that I can write daily to each blog while I spend 11 hrs away from home each day.

Had I been more focused, I would have picked one or two blogs max and focused on developing those. As it stands now, I really do that anyway. I always give two or three blogs preference and the others sit stagnant for days or weeks at a time. It’s not really the most productive use of my time. Successful professional bloggers (who live off of advertising) write 10-15 blogs per day. That’s a good 5-8 hour day on average.

Though blogging isn’t my ultimate goal, I would love to have that kind of freedom. As it stands, I’ve made a total of $42 in more than a year - not exactly replacement salary.

But each new blog I’ve built has been based on a real desire of mine to write on the specific topic. So I may be honing in on what I love. I just might need some help keeping the older blogs from getting dusty.