Perfecting the Smokey Eye

Ah. Back to the days of words that define and make sense of what life cannot explain of its own accord. Away from hiding in my own head, thoughts churning and growing and gnawing until they become an existence unto themselves. I have missed this.

I work now. I'm full-time for the first time since I started school, and I am honestly loving it. I was unsure as to what my own self's reaction would be once I started; my personal will is occasionally  thwarted by my inner self's more prominent tastes and desires. Much to my surprise, there was no revolt and I am happily employed. It's amazing to find myself leaving work with a twinge of regret, but also with excitement to come back the next day. I haven't felt that way about a job in a very long time.

I have more health junk happening. It's like it never really ends to be honest. It feels like I'm being a downer, but in reality I am just trying to be as accurate about the Right Now as possible. Unfortunately dirt makes up a big enough portion to demand an audience, even if only of one.

I have a love with a man that is deeper than all the rest. Plumbing this ocean's depths shows me the futility of a snorkel in a kiddie pool. There are sharks and yucky seaweeds and sometimes the salt water goes up my nose, but the thrill I get down there is second to none. The beauty of breaking the surface at dawn and the candid joy of discovery at each stroke makes every wave-battered bruise worth it. I love him beyond the deep.

I read trash novels (i.e. the Left Behind series), drink boring teas, wear ugly sweaters with gusto, forget constantly how to apply make-up (though I am getting dangerously close to perfecting the smokey eye), forget the most important words in my sentences as a matter of habit, forget to eat lunch because I am caught up in my work (which I never understood in others and understand even less in myself), watch shows that embarrass my boyfriend but make me feel less alone in the world, correct run-on sentences for a living yet use them like I use my air, and forget on a regular basis why I am here at all.

Tomorrow is new. Tomorrow is useful to learn why.

I Am My Own Best Counsel

Just reading old blogs that I haven't touched in months, and there they are: the words I have been stuttering out over the last few weeks as I have sorted through this mess to find some answers. All my brilliance, all the thoughts that it took all my energy to dredge up were already here in black and white, right under my nose. At least now I know I am on the right track.

I have a big decision to make, bigger than other ones I thought were big. I have been offered a good job, the one I want, and my chest tightens every time I think about it. If I take it, I might burn out and never recover (hello, Fear! You've been MIA lately); if I don't take it, then it'll screw me out of a job in the fall, the job I really really want. I feel...trapped. AHHA! Oh self-illumination, you've done it again. I feel trapped. I do not feel free to make a decision because both feel like the wrong one. Is there another one? Is there something in between, or something so far outside the box that it makes these look like twin suckers? 

Leanne, you have to make a decision. This is your life, and you're never waking up.

In Mourning

When something traumatic occurs that forces life to change unalterably, a piece of you dies. I don't mean in some strange, emo way, but rather a piece of the You that you might have been. With it goes an entire life of choices, would-haves, and should-bes that can never be chosen now. 

I have never been "good" at mourning, if it's even possible to be good at something like that. Some people just seem to have a knack for dealing with the hand that is dealt, going through the five stages and whatnot, and then moving on with their lives. I tend to stay as shallow as possible; if the pain were to actually reach the depths of my heart and break and bend things to the point where they could be reset and healed, I would begin to forget and let go. How could I ever let myself forget? And I am no better when it comes to mourning myself.

The last three years have been...difficult. That doesn't even begin to describe it. And now that I am stepping out and can see the sun again, I am realizing that the only piece of my life that is missing is me: the Me I wanted to be, the Me I should have been. I can never have that life, I can never be that girl, and no one else could understand. The war is over, I've come back home, and everyone else is going on with their lives as usual while I try to adapt to life without using weapons as answers. 

My life is great, I have everything for which I could ask. The only thing missing is me.

DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM

New year. New month. New day. It's really too bad that I cannot separate 2012 from the idea of doomsday. Ugh. I have such a good feeling about this year that goes completely against that idea. I have that nervous feeling in my stomach when I think about it (the year, not the end of the world) - like right before I go on stage and I know that I know my lines, but who knows what will happen? - and there is so many possibilities and corners and opportunities for triumph and failure that it makes my knees weak. So much can change in a year. I never imagined I would be here this time last year; this, right here, is a dream come true (believe it or not) in so many ways. God has blessed me abundantly, and I know it's only going to continue (whether I recognize it or not).

Resolutions? Not many. They're more 'heart' things than 'do' things. I would love to be a more generous, encouraging, uplifting person by this time next year; there should be a marked difference in my thoughts, words and actions. Of course there's always the desire to eat right and exercise, but I think, at this point at least, that my heart matters more.

Torrac, Carrie and Rottie

I have spent this break, so far, watching funny TV so I laugh more, actually spending money on myself so I don't feel as though I never do, reading wonderful literature so that my writing improves, and pretending I don't miss Jon with every heartbeat.

Christmas was fab, to say the least. Notable gift mentions: the "family" of stuffed IKEA carrots from my brother (see above), a gorgeous necklace from my uncle, and a handmade tea box from my dad (it is actually the most incredible thing ever). Gifts for myself: a ton of painting supplies on sale for ridiculously low prices and, a strange one, I finally signed up to be an organ donor. At some point that was on a top-10-to-do list, so it's done. Best gift for someone else: the "privacy area" I built for my brother to hang over his computer, made out of a silver wreath and crepe paper. Oh the joy. But the best part? Realizing how much I appreciate my family.

School still isn't back in for nearly two weeks, which gives me hope. I am already feeling a thousand times better, and I can only imagine that the feeling will grow in that time. It is so good to just be.

There Is Only Silence Bouncing in My Head

I haven't blogged in a really long time, and I'm beginning to realize that, sooner or later, people will start to get the impression that: a) my life only sucks; b) I only have very profound thoughts; or c) I'm actually crazy. My vote is c.

For the first time in a very long time I am questioning what I will do with the rest of my life. Read 1 Corinthians 3:10-15 and, if you're a rockin' exegeter (or exegetress), you may begin to get the picture.

Is this failure a sign to shut up, grow up, and move on? Or is it a reminder to persevere? I could really use that neon sign right about now.

Just Blowin' in the Wind

21 days until I'm done school.

20 days until no more exams.

18 days until no more papers.

7 days until no more books.

4 days until no more memorization.

I got this.

And on to the rest of my life because, believe it or not, I do have better things to think about. Example: how will I spend my glorious, nearly month-long Christmas break? So many ideas, so many glorious potentialities, and most of them revolve around a good night's rest.

Another example: how to best celebrate six amazing months with an even more amazing man? That's tricky. We're both so busy with end of semester cramming, but fitting incredible into the crevices of mundane seems... sacrilegious? Or maybe just unfair. But even if it's the worst night ever and everything that could go wrong does, there is no one I would rather spend a crappy night with (as already proved in the Fiasco-that-was-Save-On night).

Another example: how will I spend my summer? I don't plan on doing much of anything...and for me, a full-time job (as long as there's no work to take home) would feel like a break compared to the last five and a half years. Yes, years. I don't think I have taken a legitimate amount of time off from the rush and pull of things both necessary and over-the-top ridiculous since the summer I graduated high school. A week here and there does not count. It will be nice to be normal.

It's funny. The closer to the end of the semester I get, the more active my brain gets. Normally it's the opposite, but I think she knows it's almost time to use thinking and planning and creating for fun again.

Tonight I'm going to get a bit ahead on homework, drink some tea and get to bed by 12:30 at the latest. Then, even though it's my sleep-in, I will get up before 10 and do more homework. I actually never thought I could be that person.

Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come for You?

5 - Swimming lesson instructor.

6 - Teacher.

9 - Famous singer.

10 - Missionary.

12 - Writer.

15 - Married to a billionaire.

17 - Actress.

18 - Mother.

19 - Youth pastor.

21 - Pastor.

23 - Travelling poet through Japan, conquering skyscrapers and scary hairstyles with my devastatingly touching iambic pentameter.

At each age, these were my highest aspirations. Some are still with me (hello, famous singing career, here I come), and some are long dead. I never wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or astronaut or princess, because it was never about the money (except marrying rich, of course); it was about living out what I was passionate about.

So. Self-analysis time. What am I most passionate about at this moment?

...Reading my Bible, making delicious food, making anything really, going on adventures.

Okay. Now why am I doing anything else?

Obvious answer: it's all part of the plan. Finish school, do what's required, I'll thank myself later. And realistically, I'll be done in just over 5 months. That's all. But until then...I'm dragging myself through the mud.

I want a better attitude! I really do. And there are parts about school I absolutely love to bits. But there's the parts that literally take the things I used to love and twist them into ugly representations of lovely things. Too hardcore? Fine. The joy for learning is gone when I'm over-worked and under-prepared and hungover (JOKES) and, in some cases, have already learned exactly the same thing in five other courses (this happens more often than you'd think). And other things still hurt. I think I've mostly forgiven the painful bits from over the last whiles, but it doesn't make the hurt any less legitimate. Sometimes I forget how badly it still affects my heart, and then a reminder stuffs itself into my face and I cannot breathe all over again.

Sidenote: What do you do when you know something that literally no one else on the planet knows except the person whose secret it is to tell, and this information could destroy everything for someone else? What do you do when there is no "sworn to secrecy," but instead a mutual silence? What do you do when you know you should do the right thing, but in the end no one will thank you for it?

End sidenote.

I am fighting through this, but I'd rather enjoy the ride. What's the worst that happens? I don't get A+'s across the board? Unlikely at this point, anyways. I don't graduate with highest honours? ...I'm guessing that I'm the only person who cares if I do that or not. The school I want won't accept me because my grades blow chunks? I take the road set out for me instead of the one that was obviously of me.

I am officially letting go of perfection and instead striving to enjoy this at least a little bit more than I have been. Hello, folks! It's celebration time. Freedom is nearly here. It's taste is strongly overpowering my leftover coffee and midnight cigarette (JOKES...about the coffee. JOKES! Gosh).

You'll Never Know, Dear

It is truly a pity that the majority of my teenage years were spent with my heart bound up in producing angsty, cliché poetry; I was empowered by deep emotions, but I in no way did them justice. My potential was high and I wasted it. I read back now and it is not just my embarrassment that colours previous words, but a sort of wisdom that sees more depth in recent haikus than in any pager I wrote in the tenth grade.

As part of my Christmas artsy to-do list, I want to go back and revisit the circumstances that demanded such a profoundly lacking creative statement and come at them from a new angle, thereby rewriting what needed to be said with more retrospect and less chained-to-the-bottom-of-my-humanity by every circumstance that came my way. By the end of break, I want to have an entire art journal full of what-could've-been's (but without the bitter resentment of " what if"s).

This probably sounds stupid. It might be. I am probably wasting my time, but to me it is then a necessary waste. Maybe you don't understand = perfect. No one else could possibly see the ridiculous dissimilarity between the profundity of parallel universes: that of my waking life and the one relived in print. I want to do justice to my life, not just live as one who has no past and must therefore make entirely spontaneous, momentary decisions with nothing from which to refer.

Falling Together, Rushing Towards the Abyss

The more that life falls together, the clearer it becomes that there is a gaping hole. When will I release the hold on what I cannot keep to gain what I cannot lose? This ongoing process...some of it is effortless and I see myself growing by leaps and bounds; some of it seems hopeless, and I continue to cling.

In less than six months I will be graduated. When did this happen? In six months I will be free. What will I do with my time?

Ideas:

• Write a book.
• Make lots of ridiculous homemade crafts and sell them online to people too lazy to make them for themselves.
• Travel to all the places I want to see.
• Plant an herb garden.
• Make art all day.
• Travel around making art all day.
• Travel to inspiring places and just make art. All day.
• Go on a crazy year-long missions trip because I'm crazy and want to do something that will mean something to someone, not just to me.
• Go stay at a cabin by a lake and go for a run every day and swim every day and paint every day, and do this, every day, until I'm buff and a decent painter and a panini and latte master.
• Elope for the fun of it.
• Get a 6 Flags seasons pass and go to every single one.
• Get a grown up job on weekdays, only see friends and boyfriend on weekends, and volunteer because that is what good people do.

Did you just make the same sighish noise I did? Every part of my body made it with me. Everything on this list is beautiful and adventurous and lovely, except for the one I should be doing. Why is life like that? Why do I let life be like that? Why do I feel entitled to any more than that? Why do I feel that I shouldn't feel entitled? Why don't I just do whatever I want to?

The answer? The answer is a question. What does God want me to do? Me, I have dreams. Some of them are wonderful and some of them are selfish and some are godly, but that doesn't answer the question. Maybe He wants me in a season of doing beautiful things and making my own beauty and following His to the far corners of the world. Maybe He wants me to buckle down, get (or keep) a job, and be a big girl. Maybe He wants me to wait and see what He brings.

If only I knew. If only putting off my Masters - because, I now realize, I desperately need a break from learning in a classroom - meant that the rest would be sorted out.

I want a lot of things. Some of them are unattainable and therefore not even on my crazy list. Some are possible and therefore on the list. Some are in my heart and do not have names yet. Some are in my ovaries and do not have names yet, either. Some are in God's hand and, when the day is right, they will be hand-delivered to my soul.

Now that I think about it...that sounds really good to me.

I Guess I Wanted You More

It's a strange feeling to look back over the past few years, to really peer into them, and see what it was that drove me to be who I was. To not just look and suppose, or hide and minimize, or hide behind and defend; but, to really, honestly and truthfully, evaluate myself and my choices. I am a remarkable human being with intricacies that I cannot for the life of me untangle.

It's fascinating to be in a time of such mental clarity that I can memorize 3,000 words of study materials, nearly verbatim, and look back to a time when, during the semester, I honestly could not remember what classes I was taking. I suddenly have discernment and sense, and it throws the whole picture of "past" off its axis. I can see clearly now where I went wrong and where others wronged me, and the exact moment that I stopped caring and became completely incapable of choosing.

One particular set of circumstances has me particularly baffled at the moment. Like the others, I see where I went wrong and where he went wrong and she went wrong and they went wrong, but I have yet to see how it could have gone any other way. If even one element were changed, I would not be standing here, standing with the people I am, and that would be the worst fate I could imagine. Did God know this? Yes. Did He choose my destiny before all time and thought aside from His own? Absolutely. Am I angry with Him? Absolutely not. As much as I try, my finite brain cannot yet rectify how He can choose and I can screw up, but all I know is that it happens and I cannot possible understand and that it is perfectly okay that way.

What can I say? I wanted something more than God, and He fixed me. It hurt like...well, hell. Separation from God is what it was, but it brought me back closer than I have ever been. In the midst of hell, I found His love and I'll never go back. He cured me of my (literally) damned loves and wishes and desires, crushing all vestiges until I could be whole again. He loved me enough to crush everything ugly from my hands. He knew what He was doing, and, now that I can see clearly into that dark night, I know it was not a waste. He loved me too much to leave me.

I love You, Lord

And I lift my voice

To worship You

Oh my soul, rejoice!

Take joy, my King

In what You hear

Let it be a sweet, sweet sound

In Your ear

"Let's Be the Quiet Realization that Our Time Has Passed"

I'm in the middle of a massive life-dilemma, and I figure that, potentially, the only way to solve it will be to talk it out. Nothing but nothing in return seems to be fairly objective, so let's start here.

In six months, I will be graduated. That's four long years (that remembers like two but feels like seven) of stress and assignments and figuring each teacher out to get away with doing less and learning how to listen with only 10% of my attention while taking in 50% of the content (and let's be real, who remembers any more than that anyway?). So the dilemma. I want to go on to graduate studies, I've picked the school (if they'll have me, of course), I've nearly picked my degree (MCS majoring in Old Testament or Theology), and all that is left before me is to choose the "when."

When?

When I go, I tell myself it will be different than here. Less credits, less classes, stuff I actually want to learn instead of stuff I kinda wanna maybe sometimes learn. But who am I kidding? I will put too much on my plate, as always, and die trying to get things that at one time would have been a snap but are now a marathon to Mexico.

So here are the options:

1. Because I have to decide by January, which is far too soon to know if I'll want to be there in September, I can actively choose to take a year off and wait until next January to apply.
2. I apply and (granted that I get in, because otherwise all dreams are squashed) I only take one course my first semester and see how it goes. From there, if I take two courses each Fall and Winter semester and one in Spring or Summer, I will finish in four years. Piece of cake. How could that possibly stress me out? And, if for some reason I decide to take time off in the middle, I have a two year time buffer (I have a max time of six years to finish).
3. I apply and go, and make it my mission to kill this thing. I do three courses each for Fall and Winter, and two Spring or Summer. That completes it in two years, with only my thesis left to do. And who am I kidding? I could knock that thing out in a month...but I could give myself an entire year. Or two. I could be done in three years, still never even becoming a full-time student, and enabling me to have a job and a life outside of school.

So, what do I do? Objective nothingness, what do I do?

Right. Answers out of nothing are no answers at all.

But I Couldn't Stay Away

I know it's time to blog when I'm sitting here, staring at a wall and trying to decide what to do, but knowing on a deeper level I'm staring at my life trying to decide what to do.

So, umm, here's a smudging of my life right now, completely random and superb.

There is this one part of me that is happier than I have been in a very long time. There is someone in this world who loves me, really and truly, even though he doesn't have to. I can drink coffee again. I feel like, more than ever, I am moving into a place with God that is beginning to look like what it should look like in the end. I am looking to the future and not seeing darkness or endless sand.

There is this one part of me that is more confused than I have been in a very long time. What to do next year is high on the list of question marks, as are the questions of if I should go to Grenada, where I am going to get a steady income from once all my money pays off student loans (hooray, though, for graduating debt-free!), and the ever-nagging "is what I'm doing now leading to where I want to go?"

I like lists. It's because this one part of me likes to be super organized, while the rest of me likes to let things lie in ruin under the guise of organized chaos. So here are a few lists that came to mind and make me feel like my life is in slightly better order than when I started:

10 Things I Love About Myself (it's always best to start there):

1. My sense of adventure and ridiculous spontaneity. It has led me on some of the most amazing adventures and I never want to stop being that way, no matter how old I get.
2. My love of cooking and baking. Not only will it always come in handy for the rest of my life, I'm so glad it's not something that's a chore.
3. The colour of my eyes.
4. My ability to memorize. If I could have 5 books of the Bible memorized by the time I die (which I think is completely attainable, btw), that would be amazing.
5. The way I act like a complete child. Sometimes, yes, it's definitely more on the tantrum side than the cute, but I love that I still like swings and sunsets and looking out airplane windows and wearing costumes and making inanimate objects talk.
6. My love of knowledge and truth and justice. To me, those are God-given qualities and I hate when people put them down.
7. My passion for life. I also hate when people put that down. It equates to putting down the essence of my being, and that I cannot stand for.
8. My 10 second attention span for things that ultimately don't matter, and my decades-and-counting attention span for things that matter ultimately.
9. That I have a past. It's not pretty; actually, it's pretty damn disgusting. But it has turned into a beautiful reminder of how good my God is.
10. That I look pretty when I cry (except when it gets to sobbing, then I'm done for). It sounds silly, but my lips get all red and I look in the mirror and say to myself: "well, at least I look pretty when my world falls apart." Then I wipe my tears and it doesn't look like I was crying at all, except for some leftover, natural lipstick.

10 Things I Dislike About Myself:

1. The way I hold onto the things in my life that are dead and buried. Someone or something has moved on beyond me, and yet I can't help but to humiliatingly hold on until I feel satisfactorily debased and finally let go with a silly and heavy heart.
2. My insensitivity. It's been getting better in the last year or two, as I've actually been developing a feel for empathy, yet I still tear people down. I hate it.
3. That I am so critical. Lately, I've realized that, especially when it comes to church issues, my ego blows up and I believe I am the smartest in the world about everything ever. Wrong.
4. How many people I have let slip out of my life over the last few years. Consciously. I knew it was happening and I let them go. Part of it was that I didn't have any fight left in me, but part of it was just laziness. I'm sorry.
5. My inability to follow through on all my promises to God. I hate it. I need to face them and to do them. It's so much easier to ignore them, but I know that some day He will look me in the eye and ask why I didn't do what I promised of my own volition. Silly, stupid me.
6. My propensity to sin in ways that hurt others. Unfortunately, I do not tend towards inward sins that don't do much damage except to me; I tend towards those that hurt others deeply and take a good deal of time and energy and humility to mend, if they're fixable at all.
7. My propensity to sin craftily. I don't usually sin in ways that are directly laid out in the Bible. I like to do things, instead, that I know I am not supposed to do. Or I sin by omission. Or I do things that ride the line so I can pretend I'm on the good side when, the truth is, my heart is usually on the bad side of the line.
8. My lack of style sense. Every once in awhile I have a glimmer of something, and then it's gone. I'm one of those people who wears red with pink and brown with black and socks with flats and the wrong kind of jewelry and shirts with big holes.
9. That I have a severely negative heart-attitude towards my body. 1000 compliments are always cancelled out by one bad comment, even if it's only my own. I regularly only see the bad, and that bothers me.
10. I tend to not appreciate what I have. I am definitely actively trying to change that, but it's a struggle. I could use a good douse of the third world, I think.

Things I Don't Do Anymore that I Used to Love:

• Draw.
• Paint.
• Write.
• Read books for fun.
• Lay in the grass.
• Drive somewhere special just to watch a sunset.
• Listen to music simply because the moment demands a soundtrack.
• Go barefoot.
• Create things.
• Put on fun make-up.
• Eat gross things that make me feel gross but taste so darn good.
• Drive just to drive.

Things I Want to Accomplish in the Next 5 Years:

• I want my Master's. I want to be educated by people I trust surrounded by people who really care about what they're learning. That's not to say that my current situation is the opposite, not by any means. All I'm saying is that I'm thirsting for more knowledge, and I want to do it right.
• I want to have Romans completely memorized. Right now I'm at 4:16, and if I stay on course I'll be to the end of 5 by the end of the semester.
• I want to be married. It's not really something to accomplish, per se, and if it doesn't happen by then I will really be okay. Really. But to say that I want to get married between 23 and 28 doesn't sound like a huge request.
• I think I'd like to go on a fairly long-term missions trip. That's never been on the list before, but now it is. There's been a burning in my heart lately and I think this is where the flame is leading me.
• I want to be depression-free. Wow, I think this is the first time I've actually come out and said the "d" word on here. But there it is. I want it good and gone, never to return. I am not putting a time limit on it, but it is definitely a huge desire of my heart. Sitting around in a pile of my own mess and tears is not for me anymore.

I am at a crossroads. Again. I am starting to get the feeling that these are going to come up often in my life. I look around and like too many options, it seems. Thankfully, though, God has spent so much time refining my desires and priorities over the years that it is becoming easier to see which way the street sign is pointing. I feel confident about the future. That is such a good feeling.

And by the way, I love someone in this world too, and not because I need to. This gives me deep joy.

Romeo, Save Me, They're Trying to Tell Me How to Feel

I am trying really hard to make sense of the space I am in right now. In some ways I feel as though I am exactly where I am meant to be and was destined to be and, really, in the only place I could ever have hoped to be in this exact moment; in others, I feel absolutely lost in a maze of what-ifs.

'What' and 'if.' Two words as non-threatening

as words come. But put them together

side-by-side and they have the

power to haunt you for the

rest of your life:

'What if?'

And then I find myself telling myself to shut the frick up already and take life how it has played out. It's beautiful; I don't know if I could have picked a better place to be in, minus the dirt and rot of the last year and a lot. But when I stop looking back and look at now, it's beautiful. It's brilliant. I wouldn't have it any other way.

That is how I need to choose to see it. If I don't, I will be swallowed up and find myself ending in a tragic 3inchesofwater drowning accident.

Things Are Really Looking Up...Way, Way, WayWayWay Up

It feels strange to come here and feel positive before I even begin. It is weird, which in itself makes me feel sad, that I don't remember the last time it felt like this to assess my life.

Things are really looking up. I have a lot going on and it's really hard to have no free time and a ridiculous amount of homework and commitments; however, I am doing okay. There's stress and things I don't like going down, but it is not shipwrecking me. Just today and tomorrow I have 7 hours of class, a few hours of work, chapel, a meeting, a hang out, and over 7 hours of reading. And I really am okay.

At camp a girl had a picture for me, and here we are. I am the table and it is not collapsing under the strain of school as it has in the past; God knows I can handle it. He is so good, so so good to me.

Let's Kick It Old School

Tonight I was tidying up and found my Jonas Brothers notebook, but couldn't remember for the life of me what was in it. If anyone has followed anything that's happened to me in the last two years...well, it's a mish mash of that. It starts with some pages from a class...Evangelism and Discipleship! Then a sermon I don't even remember preaching, some ripped out pages that are probably gone with good reason, and a packing list for my roadtrip last June. The following 10 pages were notes from the road, hurriedly scratched out while trying not to turn into pavement smear. Those were nothing but a joy to reread and remember the magnificent heart transformation that God accomplished in those three days. Fast forward to some curriculum planning in Toronto and other unfortunate-and-I'd-rather-not-remember entries. A weird dream, a planned roadtrip for myself, Tyler and Mark to go on (the best destination being Kentucky for some straight-from-the-motherland KFC), and then the truly painful stuff. It's not enough to read page upon page that I can't remember writing, but to get to the clearest memories of all...that hurts. A plea to God to forgive me. A "pact" with the disciplinarians of life. A psalm. And then, in the midst of some of the hardest of the hard, this:

God, how to explain? I am a mess. Again. I am empty. I feel desert-ed. I thought I was out of here, Lord. I thought I was in the clear, running with Your hand in mine. Was I wrong?

I stand here, Your living water the only thing keeping my heart beating. I am not thirsty; You promised I never would again and I am far from parched. I am satisfied in You.

How do I complain to the Lord of creation? Exactly, I don't. You are sovereign, my life alone is a gift, and I worship You in desert or field or storm or mountaintop. I worship You for staying the same, for Your righteous consistency.

How do I look into Your eyes, King of Kings, and ask why You have led me here? Your ways are higher than my ways, Your thoughts above my thoughts. Ultimately all creation and situations are for Your glory. How do I accuse Your perfect love of forsaking me in this place? You did not leave me when I looked aside, turned aside, turned my back, walked away, ran away. You were here! Hand in mine, even when the mittens were so thick I couldn't feel it, let alone anything else. Looking directly in my tear-filled eyes when I failed You most profoundly; You still had lover's eyes for me. You still saw Your little girl. I look back over every stumbling step I have taken over the years, which at the time I mistook for trips and falls, and I can now trace with clarity the complex dance You led me in. I was safe in Your arms through every twirl, lift and dip.

Who am I that You are mindful of me?
I praise You!
I praise You.

- September 27/2010

Just a Giant One

Tonight was not about me. It was about a lot of things and people, but most certainly did not revolve around me.

I did, however, get something out of it. And it's big.

One person, crazy enough to believe they can change the world, can. One person who is willing to stand up when everyone sits down under the crushing weight of oppression or the insignificant weight of embarrassment can cause others to stand, even if it's just to fall. One person following God's lead instead of their own can change an entire generation.

I want to be the one, you know? And I think I have it buried somewhere within me, or maybe it's more surface-level than I can see, but I want it to define me. I want to be used and consumed by God until I die and can really start living without the glaring flesh and sting of death. I have some things about myself I need to change first, though.

I don't love people enough. I love them in theory, just as I have spent most of my life loving God in theory, but when it comes down to it I don't love them enough to spend every ounce of myself sharing who God is with them. I don't love others enough to gently guide them instead of trampling their insides with my opinions; truth given in the wrong way at the wrong time is too often mistaken for falsehood.

I am too hard on myself. I let one mistake define me and I have a knack for taking humility to a wrong level. Couple that with bouts of egomania and I become a hindrance, not a help, to the Kingdom.

But, praise God, He's working things out in me. I am repairing relationships in my life like a madwoman, stepping up and having the hard conversations, and soaking up His word like nobody's business. I am letting Him work, so He is. No matter what else, no matter how I am or who I am or what happens, He Is.

Just a Teensy One

Just thought I'd drop in for a teensy update:

• I'm officially done working at the church, tomorrow I'm done with crepes, and Tuesday I start my new job! Somehow God always provides; it's the most amazing thing!
• 3 months, 6 days, and counting.
• My last year of school officially begins next Tuesday. Time flies like I can't even explain.
• I'm currently reading Lamentations and loving it. The more I read, the more it means, and the more it means, the more my life changes. Brilliant!
• I'm so scared of so many things right now, but I can honestly say I have overcome my worst fear. I am no longer afraid of being alone.

The last one is the most significant. Where once I would have done anything to avoid being alone, I now know the only One who can forever hold me requires nothing to put myself in His arms. I am not alone and I never will be again. No matter what trials may come or who may ditch out of my life or die or simply move on, I am still not alone. I am never alone.

As Always

Of course He answered! And, as always, it was not in the way I expected. I was trying desperately to focus on just praying while I got done what I needed to do yesterday, but I kept getting sidetracked. Thankfully though, my humanity is nothing compared to God's faithfulness.

I was going through old birthday cards, trying to decide if any of them meant enough to keep, and I found one from my grandparents. It doesn't matter what it said, the important part is that I read it and knew. Without a doubt.

I am going back to school. I am finishing this year, finishing well, and getting out. And when the hard times come and I get overwhelmed and I wish with all my life that I hadn't, I will come back here, read these words, and know that I was being obedient.

The key to obedience in the wilderness is being faithful to what you knew before you entered. That's what I'm doing. And when I see glimpses of sunshine through the dense trees, I adjust my path accordingly and keep on trekking.

But All the Miles that Separate Disappear Now when I'm Dreaming of Your Face

It's exactly 12:34. In elementary school my friends and I would always be on the lookout for special times: 11:11, 3:21, 5:55, etc. And still, to this day, it excites me when I catch one.

I don't have much to say today. I am still undecided all over the place and need somewhere to land. Nothing is falling together the way I would like (I don't care how it looks, I just need a plan), and I'm confused and need to commit to seeking answers.

Aha! I am committing to seeking answers. God, by the end of the day I need to know. I'm going to seek You until I find what I need.