"Integrity," she said.

It's not raining yet, but it might as well be. I fell asleep, thinking of our conversation, then overslept and awoke groggy and scatter-brained. All the fragmented thoughts surging through my mind (along to a sad, melodious Damien Rice soundtrack) were making it hard to focus on birdhouses, as if everything is fine. Because, if I delve into it, things are not fine; and hopefully I'll never begin to feel that they are. The moment I think it's all good is the moment I'm too proud to admit I have so much left to learn.  I wanted to be a paleontologist as long as it meant I would be one of the few working on the sight of some massive Tyranosaurus Rex excavation.  I wanted to be a musician, only if it meant becoming a famous one. I assumed I'd be a designer; but in my mind I would build an imperial fashion line, my name plastered along the skeletal waistband of every debutante from sea to shining sea. Considered becoming a tennis pro, as it would increase my chance of hookng up with Andre Agassi. Thought of just taking the easy road and becoming the world's greatest living artist. Even where a (small) more selfless side of my nature was concerned, I likened myself to Mother Teresa and Anne Frank - women whose acheivements and courageous acts alligned them with all the prima donnas I so wanted to stand amongst. All throughout childhood, my reflection was a timid, four-eyed girl with long blond bangs and hand-me-down jumpsuits, identifying with heroines in fairytales and Disney movies - misunderstood and capable of greatness. My ensured destiny, these visions of grandeur, was something narrow: a notion for good, slight by the immaturity of a kindgergartener's perception of reality. The commonality among my every aspiration has always been one, terribly off-focus thing: me. Nearly two decades later, my hair is a few shades darker, but my parochial mind still envisions I have the efficacy to acheive some idyllic lifestyle, some great success which will eternally define me. And all the while, I am still hurting feelings. I am still the worst friend ever. I am still as insecure and self-involved as before, only by now, I should know better. It is as if I am walking in darkness. She told me to choose integrity every day. She said that when given two choices, she will always choose the wrong one. This is why we are the best of friends - because we are the same in that regard. I suppose if my actions were out of integrity rather than self-fulfillment, then all the "good" I do would be done in silence. I wouldn't befriend someone because that person needs a friend and I want to fill a void and be the hero; I would befriend a person without thinking, because love, in my mind, would be completely inherent. To break down my intentions, I have to wonder: does my desire to serve truly come from a contrite heart, laying down my longings to follow God, or is it from a darker, more human place - a need to please others and be some kind of celebrated saint? She said to pray for integrity. Am I, after all these years, walking still in darkness?  God is light. In Him, there is no darkness at all. If anyone claims to have fellowship with Him, but walks in darkness, he is a liar and the truth is not in him. Yikes. If I love God's people, really love - the way Christ loves the church - then who I want to be when I grow up, and the perception I'd like others to have and all the hiding and concealing and pretending would be the furthest things from my very nature. If a selfless, charitable, holy love is not intuitive, then do I even know anything of love?  And if I find a balance between being proactive about it and loving both wholly and unintentionally (because it should be first-nature), then will I not have figured it all out? There is no such thing as pure and complete enlightenment when it comes to knowing and also fulfilling a "right" way of living, because no man but Christ himself has done it.  Still, the darkness I fear I'm walking in - being a dear friend out of sheer convenience or to be loved back, storing up knowledge so that others will see the wisdom in me rather than the wisdom imparted on me which is not mine, hoping to acheive some kind of piety for the sake of being great instead of an instinctual response to the grace offered to my worthless existence - that darkness in and of itself has given me cause to turn within. Seeing as how there's very little light in there, it's hard to keep from running in circles. It's hard to break the cycle. It's hard to admit that I'm swimming in a sea of self-absorption, but the only real light is this simple truth: I am a giant mess, as always. A sinner in need of a Savior. Suffice it to say, love is typically the furthest thing from my palette and anything in me that resembles an aspect of love (faith, hope, compassion, mercy, integrity, righteousness, whatever) is more than likely a lie.  She said integrity should be a concern of mine. I can see that at the beginning of seeking it is finding some honesty within myself, no matter how unnatractive it is to peak inside. She told me her current struggle, and how it so closely mirrors my own. She said she is praying for the wisdom to make right decisions every morning. She said she is praying that her life will be one of love. She said she is praying to be bent on integrity, and that it will be out of love for Christ - not something sought or found on her own accord, but that as an extension of grace, she will begin to understand what really matters in life and live accordingly. I could hear the humility in her voice and knew that she meant those prayers she was praying. I admired her honesty which said, "I know no more than I did at fifteen, but I desire to grow," and I was reminded that no matter how far I've come, I have unlimited miles to journey yet, and I will never really get to the bottom of things or reach any absolute conclusions that cannot be further developed. It's not raining yet, but it might as well be.