The Divine Playwright.

So I was talking to Cindy today. And at one point she mentioned having a discussion about depression with one of her other friends, and her friends said, "you know why you get depressed? Because you're not doing God's Will. Because there's something you should be doing and you're not." And Cindy's reply was, "Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Duh."

And I was thinking, "No. No it doesn't."

And this highlights a significant difference between myself and a good number of the people who go to Steubenville and Christendom and the like. Put simply, I don't have 'practical' faith, for lack of a better word. Maybe 'trust in God,' is better. I believe in God and Jesus and the Resurrection, Heaven and Hell and salvation. I believe that God has made us for a purpose and generally has our best in mind.

But from there I get a bit Deistic. At the end of the day, it's what you do with your life that matters. I don't believe God has every day of our lives, yet alone every action, scripted out from here until eternity. I don't even believe that God will guarantee your life will be as it ought to be: people fail. People are miserable. It happens.

What I really don't like about the above, "you get depressed because you aren't doung God's Will," it that t leads itself so easily to being over-scrupulous about things. How can you know God's Will? Can can you be sure you're doing it? If you're depressed, but you've been doing everything 'right,' then what?

I do believe in God, and that we have a purpose, and I'm even pretty sure that he does take a hand in things now and again -- I don't think he's just watching his clockwork reality wind down. But I also don't think we're meant to run like robots according to some divine script we aren't allowed to read. You get depressed because there are sad things you can't get over, or because stress is tearing at you, or because you're biologic chemistry is off. Life is ambiguous. The best you can do is to do the best you know. To be a good person and do what's right, as well as you can with what you have and know.

As for my lack of faith, which I do think is a failing in certain respects, we can discuss that another time.

Dinner with old friends.

So, quick run-down of the evening before bed. Tonight, after perilously little planning, Leslie, Jeff, Steve and I went out to dinner. The four of us all went to freshman year of highschool together, but Leslie and I left after that and Steve and Jeff finished up there. The two of them kept in touch 'cause they were buddies throughout highschool, and I kept in touch with Leslie 'cause, well, how could I not?

We had a sub-par meal at Ruby Tuesdays, followed by an alright game or three of pool with a beer or two, and then finishing up sitting in Jeff's car talking. The activities might have left something to be desired if the company and conversation hadn't been so good. It was really great, I think, having the four of us together again. We kind of caught up with each other about life and stuff, girls who broke our hearts, the Matrix (not really), things like that. We started talking about people we all used to know, and I'm always surprised when I remember that, yeah, Leslie did know those people (in fact, it seems Leslie knew more people at CHS than I did, or at least remembered more).

I still hold that none of us have changed. Jeff is, more or less, the same guy I've known since 6th grade. Steve is still kind of half-awkward (but a cool guy) and as much as she clams otherwise I still see the same girl I've always known in Leslie. Maybe my definition of 'change' is different from what everyone else thinks of, but... We're all doing pretty well, and that's good.

The night ended when Leslie made noises about needing to do homework and we one-by-one peeled off. Jeff said something about getting me back in touch with Julia, and admitted that I have every reason to hate him for how that all played out. Not entirely true, I wouldn't say 'ever' reason, but he did 'steal' her from me, though I don't remember all the details. Part of me has always wanted to find her again and see how she's doing, but part of me is kind of scared, too. I'm always a little afraid of meeting people I used to know, but I'm even more afraid of meeting people I used to care for. I'm afraid they won't be the sort of person I can admire anymore. I'm afraid that they'll have been more important to me than I ever was to them. And sometimes I think those sorts of things are better left unknown.