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.

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.

You're a Wrecking Ball in a Summer Dress

Just taking a break from disastrous sermon prep to share about my first Sabbath in a long long time!

What I did today: I slept in a bit to prolong a really good dream I can no longer remember; ate egg rolls for breakfast and caught up on some Rookie Blue; ate candy and relaxed in front of some mindless TV; hung out with a beautiful girl I haven't seen in forever and ate sinfully delicious and expensive sorbet; walked around the lake at a park; had a brief skype chat with ma man. And worked on my sermon.

I'm preaching tomorrow morning for the second time this summer, and I'm nervous to say the least. Last time (apparently) went well, but this one...oh man. I am going to be a sweating MACHINE tomorrow. Ew. I've been preparing for hours and hours and hours before today, but I still feel like I need so much more. No more, Leanne! I'm cutting you off!

I feel lighter. Happier. Saner. This is gooooooood!

Pain Is There for a Reason

There are a lot of thoughts spinning around in my head, a lot to digest. Things I thought I knew for sure are brought into question and the same old hurts bring new shocks of pain where I didn't know they could go. It makes me question being back at school and how I relate there and if I should go back at all.

Today I went downtown and ate poutine and saw my favourite places and held this one hand for hours. Tomorrow is back to work and back to life, but for one day it was escape. Soon I will need to find another job, decide about school, fill my life with things all over again.

The summer is over in four weeks and I have a lot to think about.

Eating Cherries with My Lips

Yes, those are my lips. But not my nose. And yes I'm eating cherries, but they're not that colour and I don't act like I'm making out with them.

There are less than five weeks left in the summer, and only four of work. Oh how the time flies. It's actually unbelievable. Tomorrow is another day of colour-coordinating crayons and throwing out disgusting glued up stuff. And I'm preaching again next Sunday. I'm both absolutely terrified and completely at ease.

I look around and see potential for beautiful things. I think I'm gonna stick with that.

Life Makes Love Look Hard

First things first, I need to write a blog today. Check.

Second, I should spend quality time with my boyfriend buying silly things and being together. Check.

Third, I love watching my nails on the keyboard. That doesn’t really require a check.

The summer is more than half over and I feel like it has been a very long one indeed. I like the feel of the sun on my face and a cool breeze in my hair and the windows down and Brad Paisley singing in my radio and the surf on my feet and ice cream and little bits of vodka and spaghetti straps and flip flops and short shorts in my bedroom. But it hasn’t really been that kind of summer. It’s been more of a pants-wearing and go to bed early and wear a sweater and just drink iced tea and fall asleep after doing what I should kinda summer. But that’s okay...it really is. I am enjoying it.

And more than that, I actually am enjoying it. I am enjoying the people I get to spend it with and the joys of the little things. I like that I have days and then remember them the next morning, and good days happen. It feels good. The sun’s not out much but mine is. Sure, I still cry too much and get sad sometimes and need to fight things out, but it feels good. Because I can feel it.

I am a lady of many thoughts, and one day I might just get them all down.

Prone to Leave the God I Love

As a child, I used to imagine my hiding place with God as a garden. It was much like this one, except with many forks and a bench for us to sit on. Here I would just be with God. It was my safe place to go when I had a nightmare or just needed peace. I have not returned there in a long, long time.

More recently I have turned to the image of an island; safer, with no shadows. I don't go there much anymore, either.

This summer is being planned as one of rejuvenation instead of burnout, for once. I am creating a plan that centers around actually caring for the different needs of my body and spirit, and allowing God to do the rest. It will be interesting to see how it affects my life.

I am in a battle right now that is 100% mental. It is about maintaining focus, building strong muscles (literal and figurative), and not giving into the temptation to lie down in the desert to die. There are so many wonderful things going on in my life, so I need to focus on those and remember my reasons for living; not living as in continuing to have a body that beats and breathes and operates for the sake of itself, but living with passion as opposed to being a dead soul in a functioning body.

I am doing good, I really am, but this is a marathon. I am only just remembering my legs.

A Breathless Homecoming

After six weeks on the road (look out for the upcoming hit single of that name), we returned Monday night with a desperation to be out of the van that was only somewhat subdued by the pressing nostalgia of another life chapter complete. It has been strangely difficult to slip back into the normal way of things, but perhaps that has a lot to do with the lack of normality in my life in general. Since returning, the only normal (for me) thing I have done is read Twilight; I was looking forward to it all trip because they're my getaway-leave-me-alone-please books for just such recuperation moments as this. There has been a whirlwind of things driving my life, including but not limited to being snatched up by a man (hoooorah!), potentially getting the perfect summer job (yeeehaw!) and doing a million little things that are mostly non-essentials but really need doing in the long run.

In short:

• I miss tour. But not really. I miss the ministering part and the bonding part and the giant meals together part and the new cities part. The rest is take it or leave it at this point, I think.
• I love being home.
• If I get this job, I'm set.
• I'm happy and will not let myself feel guilty for it.

Summer is here. Summer. Is. Here. SUMMER IS HERE! And I plan on living it with gusto.

Day 216

It's amazing how fast time goes in hindsight. 215 days ago, 231 days seemed impossible; now I just have no idea where the time went. I've grown a lot in the meantime, but it has nothing to do with what these days represent. It has everything to do with the people in my life, and Freedom Session, and finally getting everything settled with the insurance company, and majorly working out a lot of stuff. I don't like cynicism and I think it turns me an ugly colour, but it would be a lie to pretend that this unnecessary stress has been for my benefit. There is nothing worse than being told I'm hearing an apology that is actually a self-justification; or when something I denied eight months ago is still brought up as fact; or when the purity of the entire world rests on my shoulders. Yeah. I get kind of tense. All the work I have done feels like it was for nothing. No one saw it. I wasted my energy and my sanity on people who don't see me.

On a better note, there's only two weeks left. This summer will be the bomb.

You Don't Know Me at All

It's been a long time since I blogged about tangible things, or so it seems to me. Thinking on ways to fix this, it came to me. I think I may have done a blog on this in the past (if I find it, I'll link it), but it will still be fun. Twenty-five random things about me:

1. I once drove to California by myself just for an In-n-Out burger.
2. I secretly desire to be one of those (psychotic) morning people who wakes up before dawn to exercise for two hours before breakfast. I love the idea of being that person, but my willpower and natural tendencies don't bend that way.
3. The thought of ketchup makes me gag. Ketchup in reality is fine.
4. A diamond has been falling out of my ring for nearly 2 years and I still have not had it fixed. I am scared that I will look down one day and it will be gone, but the idea of not wearing it so it can be fixed weirds me out.
5. I would rather read the Message than the NLT.
6. Every time I watch a TV show where people are driving in a car, I tense up for the entire scene and hold my breath because I am so scared they will be in an accident. And whenever I'm right, the jolt feels like I'm right in there with them.
7. If I could, I would only ever wear red shoes.
8. I enjoy cleaning bathrooms.
9. Every time I start a new relationship with a man (okay, let's be real, it's usually been with boys), I keep tokens along the way "just in case." Then, when it ends, I dump it all except one thing. Then I hide that thing somewhere random where I will never think to look so that by the time I find it, I will smile because there will only be good memories left.
10. Whenever I find myself thinking "if only my ______ were more ________," I now remind myself that it's God's way of keeping me humble. This brings me surprising peace. Rather than complaining that I can't sing, I don't tan, my eyes aren't big enough and I'm just the wrong height, I smile to myself and give God a small nudge of appreciation.
11. I have not written a letter to my sponsor child, Bizi, since I started supporting him in January 2009. Every time I see his picture I feel guilty, but somehow never guilty enough to send him something. It was just his birthday again. He's 8 now.
12. I love wearing giant, flashy earrings.
13. Sometimes I have confidence. Sometimes I do not. The times I do are usually the times I am inadequate and should be humble, while the times I do not are often the times I am forgetting in Whom my confidence should be.
14. I use a man's razor. I like red better than pink, and things that work better than pretty things that break.
15. I am an introvert. The more I admit it and stop fighting who I am, the easier it becomes to just be.
16. There are three weeks left of school. Part of me is desperately sad, but that is only the scared part; the rest of me, all 98%, is thrilled beyond words.
17. My car's name is Zimbabwe, Zimi for short. She flies, sings, conditions and swings. And she holds my cups with confidence.
18. For the first time in probably 6 months, I went to the graveyard on Thursday. It was hot like June and there were flowers everywhere and the wind stopped blowing and my heels were covered in mud and I trimmed the grass with my fingernails and I cried there for things I will never have. Seven years. Where did the time go?
19. The more I see them, the more I love Gerber Daisies.
20. I like who I am in the summer more than at any other time.
21. It's been nearly a year since the end of everything I thought I was going to live my whole life for. Thank You, God, for taking it when You did. Despite the mess, You had the timing down to a T. I am not angry at You anymore.
22. I will only be 22 for another 82 days. It has not been the hardest year. And things will only continue to go up.
23. I am still saving BigMacs for marriage.
24. I am out of my favourite perfume. By the time I get it again, it will be time to leave it behind. I miss smelling like me.
25. I am learning a lot about what real love really is.

If You Wait too Long for the Perfect Moment, the Perfect Moment will Pass You By

I don't know anything anymore.

I'm leaving on Sunday, back on Friday. Out of contact with the world for five days. It's going to be wonderful.

I'm waiting on the moment things will change, the second they'll get better. I'm waiting on the day I'll be better, and it never seems to come.

Being in Toronto might be exactly what I need this summer. It might be a safe haven after all of...this. Or, it might be a nightmare.

Oh yeah, and it's only thirteen more days.

What a mess.

It's a Command, not a Request

It's amazing to me how these things work. Is it my subconscious or my spirit this time, or even the Spirit? I think of a random phrase to put into Google Images hoping for the perfect picture to describe my blog in order to kick off a thought process that can pinpoint exactly where I'm at right now. "Follow me." Oh...okay. And Scripture appears. All at once I realize that this is where it had to head all along.

My plans for the summer are changing. My plans for the life I wanted are changing. Notice the pattern? When it's mine (or I think I have some say), it has no choice but to conform to God's will eventually.

I don't know if it has come across in my latest blogs, but I've been "avoiding" God lately. He's hurt me and I'm the sulky, hold-back-when-hurt type. Despite my hardness, He pursues. I'm finally getting back to a place where I want to want Him again. I even decided to start reading my Bible again...and then I left it in Calgary. A sign? Or my subconscious sabotaging me?

At a Bible study recently, we discussed how Jesus said "follow Me" and expected that the following entailed leaving everything else of import behind. Every day He asks me the same thing. Every day I shake in my proverbial boots hoping it won't come up. Every day I'm faced with it. And unfortunately, every day I walk away with the attitude of a sad, but still "rich", young man.

This summer is about to shake me at my foundation. Amazing that I can ignore God, or at least try, and He still guides with my best in mind.

I love you, Daddy.

Re: "....One Last Disguise"

Response, not imitation, is the highest form of flattery. This one's for you.

I have never understood it, not from the time I was a child and it first emerged, nor even last night when it forced me down on my knees to cry for the thousandth time; the need to be loved by someone who doesn't have to is great indeed.

The first boy who ever said he loved me proclaimed it in the middle of Sungod swimming pool after dating only two days and knowing each other not much longer. I remember laughing in his face, and barely being surprised when I found the reason behind his heartfelt declaration: he wanted to have sex. That day. I was 15 and already so jaded. I have no idea where that attitude came from or why I carried it so close to my heart, but it has been a permanent fixture in my life since it surfaced six years ago.

From that moment on, I was never alone. If I didn't have a boyfriend, I had a "someone." I learned quickly from the first boy I ever "loved" (I use quotations because manipulated heartstrings aren't tuned to love someone, but at that time I definitely believed it would never get better) that I was not worthy of being a man's sole (or soul) desire. To hold one down, to have him completely enraptured in me was too much to ask because I was not the kind of person who deserved it. Our dating pattern went something like this: get together, fall in love, he cheats, I end it; get back together, have always been in love, he cheats, he ends it; still in love, get back together, he falls out of love and cheats, he ends it. Etc. And every time, I was the one who got the crappy, crappier, crappiest end of the stick. I let it happen because I was terrified that if it wasn't him, no one else would ever want me.

The summer after grade 12, I had a classic summer romance. Poetic, right? I had no expectations on his character or anything else because by then I knew what men were and what they were incapable of being. They were dishonest, cheating, controlling and unfeeling. They were completely incapable of showing love without strings attached, or of expressing any emotion that might actually hint to who they were under the facade. So to me, this "summer fling" was exactly what the phrase intones: a no-feelings, no strings, flighty and fun escapade to waste away my summer days. And when he told me he loved me, I said this: "You don't have to lie to me. I've known boys like you my whole life. Let's just leave this at what it really is and not try to pretend it's something it's not." He nodded his head in agreement and that was that. In essence, I had become exactly like the men I hated: hard-hearted and dead to real love.

That was when I took some time off. For over two years, I stayed away from anything even resembling serious friendship with a guy because I knew that having them in my life had ruined me. I didn't know who I was or who God wanted me to be; I was lost in a sea of being something for someone. God changed my heart, opened up my eyes and began teaching me that I am worth something in His eyes, and immeasurably beyond worthy to be loved. Occasionally I would slip back into the old patterns of The Need, especially when the date passed that I had always wanted to get married on, but God redeemed.

And then He showed me what genuine love looks like. I'm not going to go into details, but the best I can do is to say that I had never before experienced an equal, giving, no power-struggle relationship, and it was beautiful. And through it, God was finally able to break through my stone-cold heart and show me His love. Incredible.

So here I am, alone again, and reading a blog by a friend. He is asking about this need we have to be with somebody. This is my response (probably lengthier than necessary). I don't know why I have this need, why it's so strong, or where it comes from. All I know is that for a very long time I found my worth in what boys thought of me, and occasionally I still get dragged down to that place only marked by pain and destroyed self-esteem. God is the only antidote, the only one who can look me in the heart and tell me that I am complete and beautiful in His sight, even without a man's love.

And this I know (because it's been written on my heart since the day I was born), when the day comes and I am finally ready, He will bring someone into my life who will compliment my soul perfectly, and that man will mean it when he says he loves me.

She'd Be California

I started listening to music again. I have missed being able to listen to simple lyrics without immediately attributing them to every possible aspect of my life. Lately I have found that I can just sing without thought and enjoy the play of words over my tongue rather than their hidden meaning in the grand scheme of things.

I had a birthday. I didn't die. Hallelujah. Seemingly humorous, but not really. I've had bad luck with birthdays since I was about seven. There was never a year without drama or hurt or too much to drink. Last year was on the road to recovery, this year had some difficulties but is probably the best one since I was six. And the good times haven't stopped yet; I still have a few celebrations left to go.

Yesterday I was getting my legs waxed and a song came on the speakers while we were talking about my birthday. It's called 'birthday sex' or something equally as stupid. Lyrics that didn't touch me all over again, and that touched me.

Maybe I'm not making a lot of sense, but I'm growing accustomed to living within my own world and ignoring whether or not others can keep up. That probably isn't the best scenario to be blogging within, as I'm sure those who read would much rather understand than not, but this is the turnings of my mind. I find fault in everything except myself because, whenever I get the chance to realize it, I am my own definition of fault.

Santa Barbara in summer, yeah, she feels like that.

Pining Suits Me About as Well as Oaking, Hemlocking or Aldering

Ah, Gilmore Girls, and everything you always teach me. Just when I think I can handle the world on my own, you step in and save the day. Just when I begin to imagine that I am encountering a situation you have not, you prove me wrong yet again. And just when I believe I am all alone and no one understands, you come through for me.

Since approximately 25 days ago, my mom and I have devoured three seasons. Tonight was the finale, and anyone who knows anything knows what the season three finale means. It's what we all knew would happen, deep down, but we always wished we could keep at bay. Even now, on my third time through, I still hope that my fruitless yearning for things to remain the same will prevail. But of course, every time, I am hopelessly disappointed...even though I knew it was coming all along.

Last night I dreamt about packing up at school and leaving...again. I woke up sad and nostalgic and feeling like I'll never quite be able to let go of this year, despite my most ardent efforts. I'm trying, I promise. Every morning I remind myself that there is no going back and that dwelling in the past will only hurt me more in the long run and waste this summer. So what in the world am I doing blogging about things I can't change?

Well, here's the thing. I'm hopelessly addicted to pining (pining, as in holding onto the past, not pinning...being addicted to safety-pinning things together would only lead to people further questioning my sanity). I love to waste away the days remembering, but it only damages my heart. That's why I never scrapbook; I mean well and I try, but I always get caught up and need to stop.

Rory said it best: "I'm not going to pine over you. You didn't think I would, did you? Because I'm not. I'm moving on and that's it." She is a lot braver than I am. but I'm going to steal a little bit of that courage and stifle how difficult this is.

I am not pining over you. Any of you. Not over this year, not over friendships or relationships or roadtrips or timmies trips or anything else. I loved it, I'll always miss it, but that is where it stops. I'm so sick of being heartsick and it stops here.

That felt really good to say.

Beneath the Stars

Every time I think of stars, I get all nostalgic (of course). Apparently nostalgia is what I do. Some thing comes to mind, but it's never just the thing...it's the predominant memory that goes with it.

The stars have always been big for me. They signify how big my God is, and how small I really am in comparison to the rest of His creation; yet, He loves me. They represent four years ago beside a river and the aftermath. They bring to mind camping trips last summer, lying in the middle of the road, feeling small compared to their bigness. And, more recently, they remind me of so little time ago, sleeping bags on grass and the rush of the ocean.

I don't know what this process is for. I don't know why it's so hard, or why I have such a difficult time explaining it. All I do know is that God doesn't test us and lead us through trials for the fun of it. We always come out with a character that is stronger and a heart that beats closer to the rhythm of His.

So I'm holding out. I don't know why, except for all the selfish reasons I've come up with. Maybe I'm crazy, and maybe I'm making the biggest mistake of my life. But I cannot pretend away this burning in my heart, just the same as I cannot imagine away His hand on me every time I look up into the shimmering specks of universe.