The Balcony Vs. The Basement

This Sunday, today, the Pastor hit me with it - the balcony vs. the basement. I guess it's a place I've toggled between for many years, too many in fact.

At times I want to be a balcony person, that individual who is there to encourage, to help, to cheer on, to comfort; to be the person that no one else in that person's life is or is capable of being. Today I have had to admit I could care less. In reality, I do care, I care very much indeed. It's just that every once in a while I get this wild hair that screams at me to back down, relent, avoid people, leave them alone because they really don't care at all for me. The amazing thing is I find myself actually believing this is true, acting on it, relinquishing my emotional holds to people, and fleeing them as I would a man running for his life out of a burning building. I've done it years ago, decided that I was (and continue to be) my world's worst enemy, and that it had to stop. No one loves inconsistency in others.

I screw myself; there's no one lying in wait to do it for me. At various times I have enjoyed this here-we-go-round-the-mulberry bush routine, but most of the time I remind myself that this is the most foolishishness. So why do I do it? Why does anyone do it? What makes me or anyone else run from the very people who need us, want us in their lives, and look to us as the other half of a significant friendship, even if they don't call as often as I'd like, to seem always to be busy, or just simply get neglectful? Furnish a few answers to that one, why don't you?

I don't want to be a basement person. That's someone who drags not only themselves but everyone else down with them as well. They're a bane to our existence, and no one wants to be around them. How would you like to be thought of as someone who's more of a pain than a pal?

Pastor hit me with the right message for the right time - could be God is trying to get my attention.